


A Shadow in Wizard's Robes

by SpectersShadow117



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Anyone who wants pairings that aren't canon will be cheerfully denied, BAMF!Shikamaru, Bullying - but Shikamaru is a honey badger, Canon typical violence and language from both fandoms, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced child abuse/neglect, Motivated!Shikamaru, Near Panic-attack, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sarcasm and Wit and no one will tell me differently, Shikamaru becomes friends or respected acquaintances with lots of people, Shikamaru has Robe-Flare envy, Shikamaru is the King of all things Snark, Some OOCness probably, Spoilers, Tags to be added, There's going to be whump all around, Warnings Added With New Chapters, except for the Neville/Luna fans, non-cannon events
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7259440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpectersShadow117/pseuds/SpectersShadow117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motivated, miffed, and magical, Shikamaru Nara was a force to behold. Whoever had placed him here was going to get it, but first he’d have to get through a school for magic. And he’d thought ninjas could be stupid. Troublesome (T for language and Violence).<br/>Written through Book 1, just waiting to post the rest of the chapters. Edit: Undergoing re-write. Will post re-write chapters when they're done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magic? Troublesome

**Author's Note:**

> First story on AO3 ever, and I'm not entirely sure how the system works. Forgive any mistakes or odd things, I'm still working out the kinks of this website. This is already cross-posted on FF under my friend's account, AngelicSilverWolf. She wrote this, but is using my account. Unbeta-ed. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-wrote chapter 1, working on re-writing chapter 2. Writer's block is no joke, people.

**A Shadow in Wizard's Robes Chapter 1: Magic? Troublesome.**

_“Here you leave today and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.”_

_―_ _Walt Disney Company_  

* * *

 

Shikamaru was rudely interrupted from his reading by the opening of a door, and the beginning of a sentence.

“Er…” someone started to say. He looked up from his thick encyclopedia of magical animals to see a boy with black hair and almost startling green eyes. “Hi, I’m Harry. Can I sit here?” the boy asked. Well, he didn’t seem bereft of manners like some others on the train, so he didn’t mind.

“Shikamaru, go ahead,” he replied easily. Harry plopped down in his seat, and Shikamaru returned to his book.

Being in this new world since birth had thankfully let him adjust to the enormous cultural change, but the magical portion of it all was still being processed. He’d discovered his abilities when he was fairly young, but hadn’t learned much about them until he’d gotten the letter to Hogwarts. At least his orphanage was connected to the magical world; otherwise his introduction to the whole subject in general could have been a lot worse.

As it was, the non-magical people of the orphanage (which was quite a large percentage of it considering the majority of the adults were squibs or people related to muggle-born wizards and witches, and the children were mostly non-magical despite the war a decade ago) explained the bare minimum of what it meant to go to a prestigious boarding school like Hogwarts, and how he should have been honored to be accepted even if he didn’t deserve it. 

Honestly.

The people that ran his orphanage needed serious help. He’d had toddlers do better when trying to bring down his self esteem. Which actually probably said a lot more about the toddlers than it did the adults, but.

 And in the brief interlude between the arrival of the letter and his trip to the train station, Shikamaru had gathered all kinds of information on the Wizarding world that he hadn’t been previously told. Maybe, if he’d had parents that had kept him, things would have gone differently. He probably would have been spoken to personally by a school staff member, if his parents had been muggles. Or, he would have learned from birth what he had flowing through his veins – magic, curiously enough, was a different sort of energy from chakra, based more on the spiritual side of the body as opposed to being equal – and he wouldn’t have had to scramble for whatever he could learn from books, of all things.

He’d never been the bookish type as a child in Konoha, usually choosing to nap or play strategy games. Unfortunately, here? It was kind of a necessity since no one around him would or could tell him what he needed to know.

So, it was from books that he discovered that wizards were so far behind in technology and social hierarchy that they used letters to contact each other, had Noble Houses that were equivalent to lords and ladies, and had divisions between them so deep that Shikamaru was sure it was just a matter of pride and ignorance instead of legitimate grievances. It was like they had been stuck in a time warp where time stood still and the wizards didn’t change. They wore _robes_ and _pointed hats_. So, maybe the stereotypes weren’t so far off after all. And, he really, really had nothing better to so anyway since the other children didn't like to talk to him and just didn't like him, and with some rather severe insomnia that made it hard to sleep, and nightmares when he did sleep, books were an easy solution to fill up his time. And he, with his excellent memory, absorbed the information like a sponge with a vigor he'd never had before.  

Anyway, Shikamaru just was here at this school to fulfill his mission (given to him during the meeting with the mysterious bastard who had planted him here in the first place, with the order to “Make stuff better,” whatever the hell that meant), and to learn magic. That was it. He wasn’t going to get involved in politics or whatever idiotic feuds that were happening between the houses of the school, and he refused to make magic his life. He would certainly adhere to the Statue of Secrecy, but he wasn’t planning on having his head stuck in the tiny hole that was magic’s circumference.

He’d get into Gryffindor, since he’d researched the houses and decided that Slytherin was too close to those politics he wanted to avoid, Hufflepuff was nice but he wasn’t a people person – and they seemed like they would be friendly to literally everyone, and Ravenclaw placed far too much value on books. Books were good for information, but he didn’t want to hang around socially stunted kids that believed everything they read at face-value (which was why he'd also visited the Wizarding community in his free time not spent reading, just for another information source besides books). So, Gryffindor it was. He’d always liked loyalty as a trait in people anyway.

The door opened again, causing his eyes to lift while his head stayed buried in his book – Japanese, of course. Though, the large picture of a centaur facing off against a werewolf on the front was probably an indicator of what he was reading about. 

In came a somewhat pale redhead with freckles painted across his face.

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full,” he mumbled. Harry nodded and Shikamaru shrugged his consent. He might have made a crack at how they were treating it like private property, but they were young and nervous so he let them be. Chōji had blamed his growing mischievousness on Naruto, but they both knew he’d always had it since childhood. He swore it was in the genes from his mother’s side.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” the redhead introduced.

 “Shikamaru,” Shikamaru replied absently.

 " Harry Potter,” Harry concluded. Ron gaped in surprise, and Shikamaru set his book down so that it lay flat against his lap. Harry Potter. Where had he heard that name before? Oh, yes, now he knew. He reached his conclusion just as Ron spoke.

“Are you really?” the latter asked in amazement. Harry looked taken aback; rather a reasonable reaction to having his identity questioned in Shikamaru’s private opinion. 

“I’ve heard that name before,” Shikamaru said slowly, trying to drain the tension. His social skills were a work in progress, so if this went sideways, he refused to claim responsibility. Both pairs of eyes turned to him. Ron looked slightly dazed and Harry looked apprehensive. Probably had already been subjected to public displays of awe, poor boy. Well, especially if that was the case, he’d have to change both of those. Hero worship never did anyone any good in his experience. “Are you famous?” he asked curiously, causing Ron’s awed expression to change into incredulous disbelief and Harry’s to relief.

“Yeah he is – don’t you know who Harry Potter is?” Ron demanded. Well, just to rile him up… (Because of course he knew who Harry Potter was, he hadn’t been living under a rock. Though he did have to wonder how he missed the scar. Troubling times were ahead if he couldn't notice even that. It was like missing a sign on the road, possibly an incredibly important factor on where he ended up.)

  “I know who Harry Potter is,” Shikamaru replied dryly. “He’s the boy who will be attending Hogwarts with me, and who came in and asked for a seat. Though, I do recognize his name and face. Maybe he just has one of those really common names.”  **(1)**

 Ron face-palmed and Harry grinned. Good. Tension gone.

 "Unbelievable,” Ron said while shaking his head. Before he could say any more, two redheads poked into their compartment.

“Hey, Ron,” they said in tandem. Oh, lord help him, they were  _ twins _ . Shikamaru had dealt with twins exactly once in Konoha, and the experience had left him rather scarred. Two words, Naruto wannabes (and no words for how mentally exhausting that made him feel, just  _ thinking  _ about the two kids who'd adored their Hokage so much they'd tried to copy his every move. From prank to jutsu, to orange jumpsuit. Those poor, poor ANBU, may their innocence rest in peace).

"Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there,” one informed their brother, interrupting Shikamaru’s inner reminiscing. 

“Uh huh,” Ron muttered. He didn’t look pleased – either about the spider or the other person, and if the other person was like Rock Lee in any way…well, Shikamaru had been practicing his stealth skills, magical and otherwise.

"Harry,” the other twin said, because they apparently knew the boy, “did we ever introduce ourselves? No? Fred and George Weasley, at your service. This is Ron, our brother – not that you probably can’t tell, between the hair and freckles. Oh, and who’s reading about…werewolves? Wow, really ahead there.”

“Shikamaru,” he said briefly. He was really straining his (imaginary) daily word quota today and he thought it best to tone down the talking a bit. After waiting to see if he would give his surname – he didn’t – the twins left with a farewell.

"So, Harry Potter,” Ron said thoughtfully. For the love of—Shikamaru thought they’d gotten past this already. Harry just nodded.

    “Have you…have you really got the – you know.” Ron gestured to his head. Harry, quite patiently considering the circumstances, pulled back his bangs to reveal the famous lightning scar. Ron stared. And stared some more. And stared some—oh, for the sake of Shikamaru’s increasingly limited patience-

“Nice scar you got there,” he said casually. Out of character for him to initiate a conversation or tease someone he just met, but hey, new life, new person, right? There was probably a saying like that somewhere. “Is it real?”

     It was his turn to be stared at, by both boys. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience ever. He’d only asked a simple question.

    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ron said flatly. “There’s no way you can’t know—even my old aunt knows about Harry, and she’s batty!” Quick slang translation: and, crazy.

    “I grew up around non-magicals for the most part.” Shikamaru shrugged indifferently. Harry, for some reason, looked intensely relieved at this. Then his face fell slightly when Shikamaru added, “And it’s for that reason that this past summer I mostly just studied to understand the Wizarding world.”

    “You  _ studied _ ?” Now Ron was looking at him like  _ he _ was the ‘batty’ one.

“Yeah. Learned a whole lot about Wizarding culture and uninteresting things like that,” Shikamaru said with a nod. Of course, the fact that he also looked ahead, practiced some spells since the read-about Under Age Magic prohibition didn’t really come into effect until after the first year of Hogwarts (and that rule made no sense whatsoever, but go government!), and memorized his books wasn’t mentioned as the redhead was looking incredulous enough. And, before there could be any questioning of his (admittedly somewhat questionable) sanity, he turned the conversation to a safer topic. Well, for him anyway. Harry was on his own with the inquisitive boy. “So, you have twin brothers?” he asked Ron.

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I also got another three older brothers and a younger sister.” he said. He seemed depressed about this for some reason - maybe expectations or something. But, he brightened up again when Harry started asking questions, and Shikamaru returned his attention to his neglected book, satisfied.

     When the food cart arrived some time later, Shikamaru bought exactly one Cauldron Cake and one Chocolate Frog. Never one that was overly fond of sweets, and having eaten just before he left for the train station (bought at a café with his carefully budgeted out job-money since the orphanage had punished him again for ‘acting out’), he wasn’t very hungry. Harry, it seemed, was incredibly hungry, if his armfuls – that’s right, multiple loads of food were bought – of sweets and snacks was any indicator. At least he wasn’t stingy with his stuff. Hopefully that didn't just apply to the food.

 Shikamaru returned to his book, tuning out the conversation between the two boys with practiced ease. If he could ignore a teenaged Naruto on a sugar/ramen high, he could ignore  _ anyone _ . He was interrupted again – this was becoming a disturbing trend – by a knock on the door. Oh, well, at least they were polite, unlike the others who just barged right in. These things really needed locks, and wizards were in desperate need of being taught a little thing called ‘manners’.

 In came a round-faced boy with a tearful look in his eyes. Shikamaru was reminded instantly of Chōji in his much younger days minus the visible food obsession.

“Sorry, but have any of you seen a toad?” he asked shyly. All three of them shook his heads, causing him to droop sadly. “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away when I’m not looking!”

     “He’ll turn up,” Harry said, trying to be encouraging.

“Yes, I guess,” the boy said miserably, clearly Harry’s methods hadn’t worked. “Well, if you do see him…” He left with a sniff. Shikamaru stared at his book thoughtfully while Ron talked about his rat. Maybe he could make friends with the boy…? He didn’t know, he’d see. It rather depended on house placement, despite his disinterest in house boundaries. People were people wherever he went, and that meant they came up with ridiculous fences between themselves according to what was acceptable in society.

Damn sheep.

_ “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, _

_ Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” _

Shikamaru came back to himself to see Ron fail spectacularly at a spell. And – when had that girl joined them? He should really work on his observational skills, they were clearly lacking if an entire person had slipped his notice.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” she asked, with rather justifiable confusion. “It isn’t very good if it is. I’ve practiced a few myself.”

She then started to talk about books that featured Harry, who looked bemused by the entire thing let alone the fact that he had multiple untrue books about his life story, but Shikamaru just ignored her, only paying the slightest of attention when she mentioned her name. Hermione Granger. Shakespeare, huh? Shikamaru had read some of his stuff, but…rather depressing for him. And considering that he was a realist with some cynical views, that was saying something.

Soon, thankfully, she left, leaving behind a stunned Ron and Harry.

“Whatever house she’s in, I hope I’m not in it,” Ron muttered fervently. Harry nodded. Shikamaru looked at the latter, and then abruptly extended his hand. Harry blinked in confusion.

“I can fix your glasses,” Shikamaru explained. Harry blinked again, but shrugged and handed them over. With a quick tap with his wand - ten and three quarters of African Blackwood with a dragon heartstring - and a mutter, the glasses were repaired. He gave them back in pristine condition, accepting the gratitude with a nod, and then decided to read his book and ignore any further interruptions, hoping the universe would allow him to finish unhindered. And it would have worked, but the next people who entered the compartment were quite loud about it.

As soon as Shikamaru laid eyes on him, he knew he was an aristocrat’s son. Whether it was the way he carried himself or how he kept his face distantly cool, he was certainly of nobility.

“Draco Malfoy,” the blond boy introduced himself. Before Shikamaru could warn him not to, Ron snickered. “Think my name’s funny, do you?” Malfoy snapped. “No need to ask who you are, red hair and freckles, you’re a Weasley.”

And honestly, if Shikamaru was going to be friends with Ron – and he probably was – then he didn’t want to have to deal with this kind of rivalry born from petty insults, so against his better judgment, he spoke up.

“He wasn’t laughing at your name, per say,” he said, interrupting Malfoy’s next statement. “He was just being immature and he’s on a mild sugar high.”

Ron gave a betrayed splutter, and Malfoy eyed him suspiciously. Ah, nothing like a rich kid that relied on Daddy.

“Who are you?” he asked, and it would have been rude but it was too…elegant. Those lessons probably paid off then – Shikamaru wondered if wizards had therapy.

Probably not.

“Shikamaru,” he said courteously. He didn’t extend his hand, because not only was that at least five different opportunities for someone to hurt/disable him, but he didn’t think Malfoy would shake it anyway.

“What’s your last name? It’s not polite to hold it back,” Malfoy said imperiously, having forgotten about Ron and Harry for the moment. Shikamaru shook his head. Thank the stupid stars he remembered his head-of-the-clan-now-act-like-it training from hell.

“You, in fact, never introduced yourself to me, but to Harry and – sort of – Ron. Therefore, I am entirely in my rights to keep my heritage to myself. You are being discourteous by not introducing yourself to me, even though I extended you that honor,” Shikamaru rebutted politely. He’d forgotten how tedious things like formal greetings could be. He generally tried to toe the line between eloquently learned and insufferably pompous. So far, he’d come off as educated yet not arrogant or above his status – the latter of which was somewhat nonexistent in this world.

It at least served the purpose of keeping Ron from saying anything further to harm this meeting's direction, and even Malfoy’s…friends were looking sufficiently surprised. Malfoy himself had a pale eyebrow raised, which he quickly lowered.

“Forgive me, I was not thinking,” he said, as he would to an echelon of equal or higher status. “I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy.” He went to extend his hand, and then seemed to think better of it and kept it to himself. Smart boy. Rough around the edges, perhaps, but could undoubtedly grow into a refined noble.

“It is nice to make your acquaintance,” Shikamaru said, inclining his head graciously. “As a Malfoy, do you plan on going to Slytherin?” Those history books had been filled it the brim with pure-blood stories, it had taken over a dozen not to find any filled with worship or fearful scrawls of the pure-blooded side.

Malfoy looked pleased at the inquiry.

“Of course,” he said almost dramatically. “Malfoys go nowhere else then such an esteemed house.”

“If that's what suits you,” Shikamaru said agreeably. “I hope to go to Gryffindor. Never one for politics, people or academics alone, I find that the house of lions will probably suit me most.”

Malfoy clearly wanted to protest this, but something must have told him that Shikamaru wouldn’t be changing his mind any time soon.

“I don’t know if you can request which house you go to, and I don’t understand your desire for the…brashest house of Hogwarts, but I hope to meet you again when we’re there,” he said with surprising diplomacy. He wasn’t so bad once you got back the slight complex he had with his name. Shikamaru just nodded, a practiced dismissal learned from years as head of the Nara clan. The three probable future Slytherins departed without another word, leaving Shikamaru to be stared at by his two companions.

He sighed. He was  _ never  _ going to finish his book at this rate.

…

* * *

 

“Nara Shikamaru,” Professor McGonagall called out. Shikamaru strode forward with a lazy expression that made the majority of the children behind him incredulous. As soon as he sat on the stool and placed the hat on his head, a voice spoke in his ear.

_ “Hello there,”  _ the hat said. Shikamaru only just prevented himself from recoiling in hard-wired self defensive reflexes.  _ “There are certain…barriers around your mind that even I can’t breach. Would you care to lower those?” _

“Not really,” Shikamaru replied a little stiffly. “I know where I want to go.”

_ “Ah, decisive. From what little I’ve gleaned, you can go to any of the houses. A loyalty to friends that Helga herself would admire, brains that would make any Ravenclaw jealous, cunning that would enable fast connections in Slytherin-“  _ the hat rattled off, when Shikamaru interrupted him.

“And idiotic bravery for when it counts that would make the entire Gryffindor house roar in approval. I know my traits,” he said a little flatly. Excuse him for being uncomfortable with another presence in his head. Thank God that Ino saw fit to teach him advanced mental blocks.

_ “Ah, yes,” _ the hat replied in amusement.  _ “Not to mention your dry belligerence.” _ The hat sighed.  _ “Well, with your defiant attitude and determination not to do things the traditional way, I suppose there's only one place for you. Better be  _ GRYFFINDOR!”

Shikamaru's eyebrow twitched at the volume before he took the hat off of his head and set it none too gently back on the stool. The Sorting Hat's chuckles followed him to the cheering table, where there were... three redheads that looked vaguely similar in looks. Ron wasn't kidding about his big family. His poor mother - six boys at once. He nodded at Fred and George and then sat down.

He watched the rest of the procession with slight interest, instead finding much more with which to occupy his time to study the school and staff with which he would be for the next seven years of his life. He was only roused from his observing when Harry's name was called. The other boy was up there for quite some time before the hat screamed Gryffindor, and he sat down next to Shikamaru amidst the loud cheering.

“It couldn’t decide where to put me,” Harry muttered in answer to his friend’s raised eyebrow. “Eventually just chose Gryffindor.” Shikamaru nodded in understanding. They watched with the rest of the house as the other first years were sorted, feeling a mix of resignation and dread for Hermione, pleasantly surprised with Neville, and glad about Ron. Then, after some greeting words from the headmaster, there came the food.

Never, in either of his lives, had Shikamaru seen so much food in one place. And that was just this table alone. Golden plate after golden plate filled with food, from vegetables to gravies to heavenly smelling meat. He did notice, wryly, the lack of foreign food, and was amused to think about Naruto's reaction to the utter non being of ramen.

Ninja training included moderation for an underfed body, usually for torture recovery instead of children who weren't given enough, but the idea was the same. Slow eating, small portions, nothing too rich or flavorful, carbs and protein to build up healthy fat and muscle. He wanted to try everything but restrained himself, he would be here for the next year, after all. And six more after that. Plenty of time to taste the cuisine.

“That does look rather good,” someone said from behind his shoulder. He didn't startle or draw any of his numerous hidden weapons (gifted via blood seals that being who'd planted him here had drawn on his arms, disturbing to think about where the blood was from but at least they were invisible until activated) but it was a near thing. In his other life, he would have. This body's reactions were too soft. He did slowly turn his head, and saw a ghost looking rather mournfully at the steak Harry was eating.

The boy in question gestured to his food. “Can’t you…?” he asked. The ghost shook his head.

“I haven't been able to eat for centuries. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it…” He drew himself up a little importantly. “I must introduce myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington at your service.” Why did everyone say that here? Service was something rather valuable to offer. Shikamaru certainly wouldn't have.

“I know you!” someone said. “My brothers told me, you're Nearly Headless Nick!” Ah, that was Ron. Sir Nicholas looked seemed to get stiffer - it was hard to tell with transparent bodies.

“I'd prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mim-” he began, when someone else interrupted him. And also, Shikamaru refused to use such a long name. Way too much trouble. Even the daimyos hadn't had long titles, just fancy ones.

“Nearly headless? How can you be  _ nearly _ headless?” a boy with sandy hair that Shikamaru vaguely remembered to be Seamus something-or-other asked. Sir Nicholas looked extremely irritated.

“Like  _ this _ ,” he snapped, and then unhinged his head until it hung on his shoulder like a demented doll head that hadn't been glued on right. Well, that was something new. Shikamaru had seen many things, but a beheading gone wrong? Shinobi were too precise for that. But, wait there was that bandit trio...did it count if the head only stuck on because of a seal?

Either way, the ghost looked pleased at the disgusted and amazed expressions as he floated away. Shikamaru remembered his priorities and returned to his food, even as the conversation turned to heritage. Quite a few half-bloods, a couple pure-bloods and a few muggle-borns thrown into the mix. Then, Neville started on his magic discovering story straight out of a bizarre court case, eliciting some laughs and some horrified looks from the muggle-borns.  Apparently Shikamaru wasn't the only one who found multiple things wrong with how his relatives went about discovering their son wasn't a squib.

No one said anything though, even Hermione, who looked extremely troublesome. Perhaps they all senses the normalcy in Neville's tone and how the other children who'd lived with magical parents didn't react, though if that didn't say something about the state of society, Shikamaru didn't know what did.

When every dish was gone from both courses, the headmaster stood up and said, “And now that we're all fed and watered, before we turn in, we shall sing the school song.”

What.

No. Just...no. Shikamaru had willingly sung exactly once in both of his lives - for his son's first birthday - and he would be damned if this school tried to make him break that record. Therefore, he tapped out the lyrics in Morse code with his fingers, garnering odd looks, but didn't sing like mostly everyone else. The head of Slytherin, some Slytherin students he didn't know, and himself were the only ones who didn't sing. When it was over, and he was relieved to find out from an upper classman they didn’t do this with every meal, just the first one, they were dismissed to their common rooms.

Shikamaru had to give credit to whoever had built the castle, it was large enough for the students to move around comfortably and for the various classes it offered, and its unique floor plans made defense easier in case of attack. Maybe that was just his standpoint, and the people who’d made it hadn’t been thinking about tactical advantage, but it was still a nice bonus. They reached their portrait, a large lady in a pink dress, a prefect gave the password, and then they were inside. It was...roomy.

It already had a nice fire going, probably courtesy of the many house-elves that resided here, and it seemed like a nice place to do homework or causally talk with friends. So different from the dungeons of the Slytherins, or even the Ravenclaw Tower. The first year boys were directed up one set of stairs, and when they reached the beds, Shikamaru immediately went for the one farthest from the door, coincidentally ending up next to Harry.

He went about keeping up the appearance that he was getting ready to sleep like his roommates, noting a feather belonging to his owl sitting on his trunk, changing clothes and making sure his holsters were being kept out of sight. He had a wand holster, old and beaten from a third-hand shop, for his right arm - two kunai holsters, on for his left arm and one on his waist - a senbon holder that was around his right leg - a shuriken container at his waist, sheathes for a pair of chakra blades at his forearms and a sheath for his tantō at his left hip (all of which had arrived with him in this new world), concealed with a small invisibility enchantment that he’d managed to get someone to do before he came to the school.

He kept his senbon holder around his leg, and wand and kunai holster around his arm, but discreetly sealed the rest into the four blood seals on his arms. The markings of the seals wouldn’t disappear for another hour or so, but if he kept his bed curtains in use and didn’t show the underside of his arm, he wouldn’t be getting dragged to Professor McGonagall for tattoos. He bade a goodnight to the others, and then settled down with his book from the train - the one he’d never gotten to finish.

Shikamaru had this little thing called insomnia.

It was common in his clan, kind of hereditary, and while he knew it normally didn’t work that way, there was just something in the controlling of Yin chakra to make sure it didn’t lash out and kill everything in a mile radius that made deep sleep hard to achieve, made more so the stronger a person was, thus the naps on all sides.

Add that to the ninja problems of new environment plus next to no knowledge of guaranteed personal safety equaled one sleepless Nara. In the orphanage, it had been more of a fact that he didn’t feel safe at all in the building, helped by the fact that he was in the attic and had been for years. Here, it was just strange being with people again after so long, and he wasn’t tired anyway.

He’d nap during the next day anyway. Naras usually managed about four hours of sleep, and then seven or eight hours in nap time, if not all at once, nine if they were lucky. With missions, that number cut down to anywhere between zero to four. Somehow, he thought he probably wouldn’t be getting very much napping done in a school full of children learning magic.  **(2)**

Troublesome, thy name was Life.

…

* * *

 

One thing that rather annoyed Shikamaru about the Hogwarts castle, well, two things really, was the unbearable amount of  _ stairs _ it had (would it have killed them to install the wizard equivalent of an elevator? For people who pushed reliance on wands to save the day, they were really exercising their students and building up lacking stamina), and the fact that his two friends were absolutely incapable of directing themselves to their classes. So, maybe not the castle’s fault, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been designed that way on purpose.

It was because of this un-present sense of direction that Shikamaru spent his first day leading his hopeless friends around the castle, having taken in a decent amount from the previous trip to the common room, and using common sense and asking directions for what he didn’t know. It was thanks to his efforts, exasperated as they might have been that he, Harry and Ron got to their classes on time. The classes themselves were something like what he’d hypothesized they’d be from his observations of the teachers the previous night.

While disappointed that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher didn’t take his own subject very seriously - the man seemed to be afraid of it for the Shodai’s sake - he hadn’t seen anything outstandingly brave or impressive from the man the previous night, so it wasn’t a total surprise. The feeling of something being...off about the man had him on his guard during the duration of class, even if Professor Quirrell had stuttered his way through his introduction. He was looking underneath the underneath, as Kakashi had been so fond of saying, and the very most underneath was telling him that something was wrong with the man.

Transfiguration was much like the teacher - straightforward, strict in ruling, and not to be played with. The very first lesson included a sharp dressing down, and the turning of a desk into a pig. He came to the conclusion that this would be a class in which not to fall asleep, for fear of waking up looking different than when he came in, whether from punishment from the teacher or a stray hit from a classmate had yet to be determined.

And, Potions was another class in which resting wouldn’t be an option. Not only was Professor Snape incredibly sharp, but he didn’t seem to be overly fond of Gryffindors, or people in general really, especially Harry. Now, Shikamaru knew deep-seated loathing when he saw it, and it rather unnerved him to see it directed at someone like Harry. Maybe Ron, because the redhead could rub people the wrong way with his temper, but Harry hadn’t done anything to warrant the interrogation-like questioning and deduction of points. While two points wasn’t a lot in the long run, to a somewhat insecure first year on the first day of school, in front of all of his friends and housemates, that was going a bit overboard. Shikamaru didn’t say anything though, knowing better than to challenge the man in his own class.

Thankfully they were assigned partners and a potion not long after the grilling, with Shikamaru ending up with Neville. Five seconds in, and he knew it was going to be a lot more challenging than he first thought. At least he wouldn’t be bored, he thought wryly as he stopped Neville from putting in the wrong ingredient for the fifth time. And, it was a good thing he’d had the foresight to memorize the recipe, otherwise this would probably be hazardous to his health. He was so caught up in making sure the potion didn’t explode in his face and cause an unfortunate number of boils that missed his professor’s appearance behind him until a cold voice interrupted him.

“Mister Nara, what are you doing?”

Shikamaru almost pulled out his wand. Almost. And, his other weapons, but thankfully Neville’s frightened squeak let him relax just the smallest bit. His voice was perfectly respectful when it came out. “Making my potion, Professor.” His reply? Not so much. His friend’s horrified and shocked faces let him know that the Potions Master probably wasn’t pleased. He craned his head to see Professor Snape giving him a rather unpleasant glare. Then, a movement in the corner of his eye had him snapping his hand out to catch the porcupine quill Neville dropped in terror, just barely catching it before it touched the surface of the potion.

He sighed in relief. That would have been an explosive disaster. He placed the quill on the table, and when he looked at his professor again, he was being given an appraising look instead of an outright glare.

“You’re not following the instructions on the board,” the man said, eyes resting briefly on the quill. The meaning behind his action hadn’t gone unnoticed. Shikamaru turned and saw that he had indeed differed from the process on the board. Truth be told, he hadn’t even looked at the thing except for once at the beginning to see what they were brewing.

“I created my own version and memorized it,” he replied, wondering if this would be a problem since he’d sort of done it for all of the potions in his book. They were mostly untested, but in theory, they should be sound. Better, even, than some of the recipes, but certainly cheaper. Substitutes could create potions just as good as the originals, it turned out. “I’m sorry, sir, is there a problem?” he asked. He hadn’t meant it to sound belligerent, but it apparently did if the gasps meant anything.

Fortunately, those gasps also served to remind Professor Snape that they had an audience. He whirled around, cloak flaring about him. “Get back to work, unless you’ve all memorized it as well,” he ordered coldly. They hurried to do so under his intimidating eyes. He turned back to Shikamaru, meeting his gaze.

Immediately, the latter felt a mental probe carefully touch his mind. Instead of raising suspicions as to his mental fortitude, Shikamaru guided him around a few memories of the orphanage and Harry looking not so...Gryffindorish, and then promptly booted him out with a wince that wasn’t entirely fake as Neville dropped a rather heavy bottle on his hand. The professor’s eyes were considering as he finally turned to go back to his desk, while a headache started up behind Shikamaru’s eyes.

He’d forgotten how taxing parrying mental attacks could be if he hadn’t been working on his defenses like he should have. A stupid mistake. Thankfully the rest of the class went peacefully, him and Neville working a partnership that didn’t result in exploding or melting cauldrons. When it was finished, he bottled up some to hand in for inspection, and then another vial for himself, for later. When he pulled out the small case full of different potions from the book bag made of moleskin and opened it, there was a gasp from behind him.

“Did you make all of these?” Hermione asked, pointing to the ten or so potions in the case. Shikamaru nodded absently as he carefully put in the Cure for Boils. “How? Some of these look really advanced!”

“I read ahead,” he told her dryly. He’d make a label for the potion later, when there weren’t so many eyes on him.

“And what language is this? Chinese?” she asked, noticing the characters on neat labels below each bottle.

“Close. Japanese,” he said, pulling out a book for the last ten minutes of class. Apparently she didn’t understand that this usually signaled the end of a conversation, for she kept talking.

“So, you’re a native speaker, then? You must be,” she mused. “Do you know any other languages? I bet it’s dead useful, being bi-lingual. I wanted to try learning French, but no one I know can speak it so I couldn’t. How did you learn English? Were you born in Japan? Or did you learn it at home from your parents?”

Shikamaru didn’t know which question to answer first, and ordinarily he might have just ignored her until she got the hint, but his headache was rapidly increasing in strenth. It was a little amazing how she could make him want to find the nearest tower and jump off, but then again, she had nothing on Ino’s rants when was worrying about her clothes  **(3)** .

Thankfully the ringing of the school bell had him moving with the rest of the class and away from her questions, and the fact that he’d left her mid-question didn’t make him feel guilty anymore. She’d have to learn eventually that people wouldn’t just stand still and take being talked  _ at _ instead of talked  _ to _ . On the way to lunch, however, he noticed Harry’s downcast disposition.

“What’s up?” he asked, nudging the latter’s arm. Harry looked up with a slight frown.

“Nothing, it’s just, Professor Snape seemed to really hate me,” he said slowly. Shikamaru nodded.

“Seems like it,” he agreed. Then he yawned. At least his headache was finally receding. “What?” he asked at Harry’s surprised look.

“I thought you’d tell me I was imagining it or something,” the latter confessed. Shikamaru shook his head.

“Nah. I know the difference between general and pointed dislike. He definitely doesn’t like you for something,” he said. “I might be lazy, but I can read people decently.” Harry looked considering when they split up, Ron and Harry going to meet Hagrid, and Shikamaru back to the Common Room, which was far better than depressed.

On his way back, he met a group of Ravenclaw fourth or fifth years circling something. Curious, he ventured closer, and then stopped short when he saw the situation. Four of the older Ravenclaws had surrounded three Slytherin first years. He recognized Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode from his Potions class.

“-stupid Slytherin first years, think you’re so smart,” one Ravenclaw sneered. Shikamaru was surprised at the animosity in that expression - wasn’t Hogwarts supposed to be against this sort of thing?

“No, that’s your job,” Blaise drawled, dark eyes narrowed. “And you’re, wonderful at it, displaying your awe inspiring intelligence.”

Weren’t Slytherins supposed to have self-preservation instincts? But, enough of that, because that particular Ravenclaw was looking dangerously close to braining the first year with the book in his hand.

“Oi,” Shikamaru called out, internally sighing. He disliked bullies more than many things, mainly because Naruto and Chōji had suffered so many of them when they were younger, but also because he found them to be cowards who tried to pick on others to make themselves feel better. This coming from the one who used to refer to himself as the ‘number one person at running away’ too.

“What do you want?” a Ravenclaw snapped. The Slytherins were giving him wary and intrigued looks.

“Well, not that it’s really my business, but I couldn’t help but notice the unfairness of this situation,” Shikamaru said. “But, do three Slytherin first years equal four Ravenclaw fifth years? Is that something I’m not aware of?”

The Ravenclaws spluttered in indignation.

“Wait just a minute,” one started, and Shikamaru had his wand out and pointing between his eyes, causing him to halt and try to retreat instinctively.

“You don’t know how to use that! Put it down before you hurt yourself,” a different Ravenclaw said impatiently. Shikamaru let his eyes narrow and some of his own impatience colored his tone.

“I know what this can do better than you can, probably. Want to guess what spell I’ll use first?” he asked, dangerously calm, letting a small amount of killing intent surround the older people. It was enough to make them blanch. They bravely drew their wands.

“We’ll see, first year,” one said with fake bravado, watching him with unnerved eyes. Before any spells could be thrown, a dangerously silky voice echoed.

“What is happening here?” Professor Snape asked. All eyes went to him in silence, horrified on some parts, relieved on others. “I believe I asked a question,” he said, when there was no answer forthcoming.

“This first year-” one Ravenclaw started, when he held up his hand.

“I won’t ask the person who was pointing a wand at someone younger than him,” the man said coolly. “Zabini, what happened?”

“These guys accosted us in the hall, Professor,” Blaise said promptly. “Said something about an induction to make sure we knew our place. Would have been worse, but Nara here interfered and was about to start a duel.” A grin split his face. “I think he might have won too, if you hadn’t arrived when you did.”

Professor Snape surveyed the gathered crowd.

“All of you, back to your tower. I’ll be having words with Professor Flitwick, because I know he personally detests this kind of behavior. If he doesn’t punish you,  _ I  _ will so you’d best hope he does,” he ordered. They wasted no time in leaving, hurrying to get away from the glowering professor. He dismissed them from thought and turned to those of his house. “Are any of you in need of the Hospital Wing?” he asked.

They all shook their head. “Good, get back to the common room.” They left, shooting Shikamaru curious glances as they left. “Mister Nara, why did you interfere instead of getting a teacher?” he asked when they were alone.

Shikamaru shrugged. “I don’t know. Those types of people are all bark, Professor. They might know theory, but their practice is lacking. Besides, a duel would have drawn attention anyway, and I wasn’t going to leave those guys alone with three students younger than them, looking on the verge of throwing a punch.”

Professor Snape studied him, and then nodded. “You have my gratitude for stepping in, but next time, try to get an adult,” he said. Shikamaru nodded.

“Of course.” Not that he meant it. Then, he bowed slightly and turned and left.

Well, if all fights were that easy, maybe Hogwarts wouldn’t be too bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1): Ha, sorry, I can just picture Shikamaru f**king around with these two. And my friend said I should try and limit the visible swearing, but it's a work in progress, like Shikamaru's social skills.  
> (2): Not cannon, but I wanted to give him an excuse for the napping besides just laziness, because somehow, I can’t see that in a militaristic society.  
> (3): No, I’m not bashing her, but Hermione can be very nosey, as seen multiple times in the books. Besides, Shikamaru had to deal with Ino in full on ‘fangirl’ mode. Hermione isn’t really that bad when you think about it and he knows it.
> 
>  
> 
> Author-san would like to apologise for her extremely large hiatus.
> 
> Editor-san would like it to be known that she is not responsible for the gap in updates, this is strictly on AngelicSilverWolf's part. The following note was written earlier by Author-san.
> 
> A/N: So, how was it? I’ve re-written this to hopefully make Shikamaru a little less OOC than before, and also more mature, for those of you who’ve read this already. I replaced the interaction with Fred and George because the Slytherin interaction in later chapters sort of flew out of the left field, so yeah. They’ll come later though. Sorry for my absence and the changes, but yeah. For the full list, check the latest chapter when it comes out, which might be a while. Please comment.


	2. The Key to Motivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the support!

**Shadow in Wizard's Robes Chapter 2: The Key to Motivation**

**By: AngelicSilverWolf**

_‘We were made to be courageous,_

_And we’re taking back the fight._

_We were made to be courageous,_

_And it starts tonight with us tonight.’ – Casting Crowns_

* * *

 

 

**Age 9: Two years before Hogwarts.**

Shikamaru stopped. Shikamaru stared. No, he wasn’t imagining it, his brand new owl was reading.

That was...interesting.

He blinked to make sure he wasn't possibly hallucinating because of sleep deprivation, but the owl was still there. Sitting on his cot. Looking at his book. For all intents and purposes reading.

He sighed and stopped trying to make sense of the world. Hypatia, his Short-eared Owl with intelligent yellow eyes, who was apparently much smarter than he'd given her credit for, seemed almost smug as he lay down on his cot beside her. She acknowledged his presence with a nudge of a brown wing and then returned to her…reading. He'd have to get used to the fact that he'd somehow managed to find a special owl amongst the rest of the already superior animals. It was like Naruto’s luck had somehow transferred to him when he crossed dimensions. Somehow that didn’t surprise him too much, but he didn’t have to like it.

He groaned in time with his stomach at his luck. He had retrieved this particular owl from Diagon Alley just a few days ago, and she had evidently just been waiting until she knew he wouldn't get rid of her before revealing her higher brain functions. He wanted to wonder how that even worked, but decided it would give him a headache to think about. If he let sleeping dogs lie, maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Probably not, but he could dream, right?

His stomach groaned again, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in a good twelve hours, having been deprived of dinner and lunch for misplaced blame - again. At least when everyone was asleep, he could sneak down to the kitchens to grab a sandwich or something. But, then there was the missing food to think about, because the adults were infuriatingly meticulous about food supplies. He could just wait it out and try not to hurt the next kid that came after him.

It wasn’t his fault they thought he was an easy target because he was lithe and shorter than most. It was a little bit his fault that he slyly taunted them though (but to be fair they usually really deserved it). The missed meals were almost worth the stupefied looks on their faces when they tried to work out exactly what he was insulting. Almost.

He sighed and turned over to sleep. If he didn’t get food the next morning, he’d just go out and buy some for himself. Hurrah for desperation disguised as desire.

…

* * *

 

**Present Day:**

“Nice to see you again,” he greeted his owl. Hypatia acknowledged him with a flick of her wings, but otherwise kept reading. Well then. He thought he'd taught her better than that. He tweaked a feather in fond annoyance. This time she gave him a slightly reproachful look and turned her back to him as she flipped to the next page. He ignored the attitude that he absolutely didn’t deserve and settled down on his bed. It was that free time after lessons but before curfew, where everyone was anywhere else, trying to make up for lost time or finish homework, which meant he was entirely alone in his dorm. Maybe he could catch an hour or two of actual sleep.

It ended up being less conducive to his health, ironically enough.

Duck, kick out, don’t touch _, his mind repeated like the life saving mantra it was._

_War was different and yet so similar to how the books told it. It was violent and full of adrenaline, like in the stories, but they never mentioned the fear. The anger, the rampant emotions in general were too strong for words alone to describe, so maybe that was why authors didn’t try. Either way, they also didn’t properly convey just how many close calls one person could get into._

_In the past ten minutes alone, Shikamaru could have died at least five times, if not for his fellow ninja, reflexes, or sheer dumb luck. Good to know._

_“Die, fuckers!” some Sand-nin screamed. Shikamaru shook his head, half in disapproval and half in a dodging maneuver. A great example of how to waste breath, screaming at an enemy that couldn’t think for itself._

_“Come on! We need to move!” Ino threw a kunai at a White Zetsu clone in front of them. “Naruto and B-san are waiting!”_

_“Yeah, yeah, woman,” he muttered, flinging himself forward with renewed vigor. “I got it.”_

_The dream shifted as they charged, and though he knew this was a memory, it was with a feeling of disconnect, like it had happened to someone else._

The next scene wasn’t so distant.

 _Pain, blinding, horrible pain from having his chakra forcibly removed from his body. He thrashed weakly to dislodge the root, but it only tightened in response. This was how he was going to die, by the tree root of an insane god, and while it was very much unacceptable, there wasn’t anything he could do because his allies were going through the same thing and he was supposed to be the strategizer_ **_dammit_ ** _-_

It shifted again, back this time.

_“Take care of your mom,” Shikaku said, drawling as always, no urgency in his voice even if his death was imminent._

_“Sure.” His own voice was choked. He never could completely mimic that uncaring tone in hard situations. His words weren’t what he wanted them to be, but they were enough, they had to be, because not fifteen seconds later, the connection was gone and all he could think about in the midst of people depending on him was how fucking_ **_empty_ ** _his mind felt now, even with the link to Ino, who was shaking hard with the loss of her own father, but they had a job to do and they’d damn well ensure the sacrifices were for a purpose._

_“Let’s go.” His voice was hard and professional, so different than his typical one. He’d mourn later, because now was for ensuring that future generations didn’t have to know the world ruled by Sasuke’s mad ancestor. “We have to use what they gave us. Let’s take this fucker down.” He wasn’t one for swearing, but this was urgent and he’d never forget himself if he failed and-_

_He was dying. No chakra, or near to it. Even as his vision spun, he saw the empty eyes of an ally nearby. He didn’t know who it was, and he didn’t want to know. Familiar green eyes met his._

_“Shikamaru! Eyes on me! Come on, not when we’ve gotten so far!” Sakura tried, she really did. But, he was fading too fast…_

…

* * *

 

“Are you okay, Shikamaru?” Harry asked in concern. Shikamaru didn’t respond, because he was not, in fact, okay. Not at all. He’d woken up not an hour ago with the lingering feeling of death. Not a nice way to wake up, even if he knew that Sakura had sustained him until a Naruto clone had arrived and helped him out.

But damn had that been too close. Death had brushed its cold fingers just a little too near to him for comfort, so no, he wasn’t alright. Upon awakening, he’d checked himself in the nearest mirror to make sure he wasn't withered and decrypt like he could remember being. it had been a relief to see a face too young, because that was infinitely better than seeing a face too old (the mirror had questioned his wellbeing too but he’d ignored it in favor of being glad that he still looked eleven).

Not to mention that he was disoriented because he’d actually managed a full night's sleep by skipping dinner (something that happened about once in a blue moon), only to be woken this morning by someone shuffling around, feeling quite literally like death warmed over. At least he was in the best class to fall asleep in, History of Magic

Fun fact with Yin chakra, it made those nightmares feel a little bit more realistic. A stronger sensation of adrenaline here, a more intense scent there, and he had a recipe for a really shitty dream. Added to the fact that the dream had actually been a sequence of memories, and one had the recipe for a really crap start to the day. This would have been fine if some people had just left him alone. But no. Of course not, because his life was never easy that way. Or, any way, come to think about it.

Harry kept inquiring about his health - and while his heart was probably in the right place, Shikamaru had to wonder why he would keep asking after the fifth time of receiving unencouraging silence as his answer - and Hermione was constantly hissing at him to pay attention because she apparently had nothing to do. At least Ron was helping on that front. He kept telling her to mind her own business. It sort of worked in other classes, but History of Magic was so dull that even she needed something to occupy her time - ironically, this was telling Shikamaru to pay attention was how she did so.

It’d be amusing if it wasn’t so damn annoying.

“Are you listening to me?” the focus of his grievances asked.

“Not at all,” he answered, voice coming out rougher than he’d expected. Getting a full night’s sleep really didn’t sit well with him because they usually only happened when he was drugged, injured or having nightmares, sometimes all three simultaneously. He had subconsciously developed a sense of unease and wariness whenever he got too much sleep in one sitting. Hermione puffed up in indignation. Like a turkey. Ha. A really bushy, loud, female turkey (and what were those called? Hens? Meh. Animal expert, right).

“Well,” she snapped. “Rude!” From the girl who was bothering someone who was trying to nap. “I was trying to get you to pay attention and take notes.” Right. He was sure she was all about those altruistic intentions.

“I know. I’m just ignoring you because I already know what material he’s covering,” he said candidly through slightly gritted teeth. Then, he stopped, took a breath and forced himself to relax. No need to be rash and do something he'd regret when he wasn't feeling out of sorts. At least this body didn't have the twitchy fingers that his other one did, or she'd probably be some hair short or something. Look, weariness made him less tolerant, it was a fair reaction considering.

“That doesn’t make it any less respectful to tune out the teacher,” she protested.

“Technically you're not paying attention either since you're talking to me,” Shikamaru pointed out, laying his forehead pointedly on his arms. Maybe he should stop engaging with her in argument. She sputtered.

“Look, can - can you just leave it?” Harry interjected, sneaking a look at his friend. “I think he’s really tired, so, just lay off a bit.” Wow, Shikamaru hadn’t heard him talk bluntly like that before. Probably just for friends. He seemed like the type to suffer in silence. He knew the type all too well - he’d have to try and teach him some self-preservation so that he didn't go all stoic and emo and run off with an evil madman, try and kill said evil madman, and run off with another only to come back when that madman tried to resurrect a goddess.

Hm. So maybe he had some lasting issues from Madara, but who wouldn't?

Hermione huffed but reluctantly left Shikamaru alone, to his unending relief.

After class, he was accosted by Harry and Ron.

“So, wanna tell us why you look so bad?” the latter asked.

“Nice, Ron, give it to me straight,” Shikamaru said dryly. Ron flushed a little but didn’t back down.

“Yeah, seriously, have you not been sleeping or something?” Harry asked. His concerned green eyes unfortunately reminded Shikamaru of a puppy’s. All scrunched up and ador-

No. Ninjas didn’t use words like ‘adorable’. Except for kunoichi and possibly Kakashi when he was being a sarcastic bastard. Great. Now he was insulting his superiors.

“I haven’t, really. It’s a muggle condition called insomnia that I have that almost guarantees difficulty sleeping for more than...I don’t know, I’ve been averaging three or so hours a night,” Shikamaru answered. He knew he’d forgotten something - his basic glamours to make himself look less tired. Harry and Ron looked properly disturbed. It was like they'd never heard of late night vigils or something. He was just constantly living the nightlife of a college student before exams. Without the coffee or the alcohol.

“That’s really rare,” Hermione said, joining the conversation, because apparently they’d been that loud about it. Or she’d just been hovering about. Probably the more likely explanation. “Don’t you have medication for that?”

“Yeah, pills don’t really work for me,” he said. He wasn’t particularly comfortable with chemical compounds that could easily have been mixed wrong, thanks. “Besides, I’m okay with the frequent naps. And, this isn’t the typical temporary kind of insomnia. I think it’s hereditary, not magic related, and very permanent.” Well, even if it was related to Yin chakra, it still counted as hereditary. Ish. “So it’s fine, I just slept in a weird position last night.” Sort of true. Weird being completely rigid, but details.

They thankfully left it at that, though Hermione looked like she wanted to investigate further, and went through the day with minimal fuss. Thank the Hokage for childish intuition on how far to push.

In the dorm that night, Hypatia was waiting with another book, much to the other boys’ bafflement.

“I-is that owl reading?” Seamus muttered. “Or am I seeing things?”

“If you’re seeing things, we’re all seeing things,” Dean said, staring hard at the owl pursuing a large textbook over rodents. Clearly he’d never heard of gas poisoning to sound so dismissive about the possibility of collective hallucinations. Shikamaru strode over to her and ignored their whispers.

“Hypatia, meet my dorm mates. Dorm mates, Hypatia,” he introduced. His owl looked up, gave a cursory look and hoot of greeting, and then returned to her book. Little troll - she was pretty great sometimes.

“So. Your owl reads,” Ron said as if he wasn’t quite sure he could believe it, but wasn’t discounting it either because, hey, magical world. Most things were possible. That was pretty similar to his own reaction the first time he’d caught her.

“She’s special like that,” he agreed. Then he tilted his head to the side to dodge the wing his owl lazily swung at him. “Rude. There was a lifetime warranty on you.” An idle threat and they both knew it. He spotted a plain letter on his bed. “What’s this?”

“Can she...understand you?” Neville was hesitant, as if afraid of sounding crazy. His unspoken question of whether she talked  back hung in the air.

“Most of the time,” Shikamaru replied. “She doesn’t always respond though.” Ha, let them puzzle that out while he read this letter.

The flat and plain lettering alerted him as to who the sender was immediately, but he read anyway. Might as well kill a couple more brain cells - he had plenty to spare.

 

_Nara,_

_Due to your prolonged absence, we shall be giving your leftover items to those who need it more. Stay at your school for holidays, and don’t come back expecting the items returned. Do not expect further correspondence, and do not initiate contact with us yourself. After this year, due to the number of jobs you’ve held steady for the past few years, we will not be paying for your tuition or supplies._

 

_The Caretakers._

 

Well, that was a good deal more professional than he expected from them. Also, longer in coming (he'd maybe been expecting a rant on how many resources they wasted on him the first week at Hogwarts).

He’d left a few old shirts and socks behind that they'd seen fit to bestow on him in their infinite generosity (sarcasm, of course), well aware that they wouldn’t be his any longer when he returned. Thus, he’d packed everything else up of value and taken it here. It still rankled that they wouldn’t pay, but he hadn’t been expecting any less. It was why he’d gotten multiple jobs in the first place. Now he had a nice little egg nest stored up.

He almost scoffed when he saw the note about communicating with them. Really, who did he have to talk to there? And it was like they thought he was a bad influence, like he’d almost gotten the children to revolt against them or something (in his defense, he’d just been on the mend from a sickness and had been so fed up, he’d _slipped_ with the sugar amount in a few kids’ drinks. Result: chaos and sheer entertainment for the next six hours straight).

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, noticing Shikamaru’s displeasure. Shikamaru just shrugged and let his face revert back to its usual lazy general uncaring expression.

“Nothing, just some confirmation to what I already suspected,” he said. Yeah, that the adults of the orphanage weren’t fit to care for other people, much less impressionable children. He reached into his trunk, pulled out a box of matches, struck one and proceeded to light the paper on fire. The yelps of surprise didn’t deter him, and he waited until the smallest of corners was left before blowing it out and throwing it away. And that was the end of that. He could have used his wand, but there was something satisfying about lighting a match and watching it burn something.

“Don’t we have homework to start on?” he asked briskly, and gathered up his pile of parchment and textbooks and marched out, leaving Harry and Ron to scramble after him. He had his books set up and essays out before they even sat down, and when they did, they stared at his work in amazement.  
“Is this Snape’s homework?” Ron asked, inspecting the two page essay. “On cauldron types? How’d you write so much? Your writing is _tiny_. And, are these your notes? I have five older brothers, the oldest of whom got all twelve O.W.L.S. and I haven’t seen so many notes before.” He lifted up the four pages of solid writing with the occasional picture to clear things up. It was written to be easier for a reader besides him, just in case. Years of experience with field reports and boxes in which to fill in not being big enough and people who didn’t think like he did helped this process a lot. Not to mention that multiple resources made it easier to get information.

“Those notes are only relevant to this essay. And, I read a lot, among other things. You should try it sometime,” Shikamaru said snarkily. And really, those notes were just the the essential information. It was amazing what a culture even so backwards as the wizarding one could convey with hundreds of years of information and experiences. Ron shook his head in frank bewilderment and started on his own, muttering about people with no life.

Rude.

He had a life that revolved around cloud watching, naps, training, occasionally reading and Shoji.

Shikamaru ignored him and started on the Herbology drawing of some plant that vaguely resembled an enormous Venus Flytrap, occasionally helping his friends with their work. About twenty minutes in, Shikamaru was interrupted by a timid squeak. He looked up and saw Neville standing beside him, books and parchment in hand, shy expression on his face.

“Um,” Neville said nervously, “Can I join you guys? I'm having trouble with Potions and History of Magic, but I can help with Herbology.” Ron and Harry shrugged indifferently when Shikamaru looked at them.

“Pull up a chair,” he said. Neville's face split in a relieved smile and he hurried to do so. When he sat down, Shikamaru asked, “So what are you having trouble with?”

A conglomerate of words that pretty much amounted to _everything_ spilled out and had Shikamaru's mouth tilting up in amusement.

“Alright. No problem. We should start with Potions and work from there,” he said patiently. He briefly redirected his attention from his work to helping Neville out, lending his notes and expertise as needed. It wasn’t as often as he expected - apparently Neville just had to have some concepts explained in more detail than other people and he was good on theory. Which, considering they had no practical homework yet, was good for him. Halfway through their study pow wow, Hermione joined them by pulling up a chair and asking (demanding) that Shikamaru confer with her about their homework assignments. Even the ones she’d already done.

Deciding that surrender would cause less irritation, he reluctantly engaged in short concise sentences to give her small answers. Despite her initial forwardness, she was surprisingly amenable when it came to correcting her work or defending her position. She even spared him a compliment on his organized notes that had Harry snorting at his expression of somewhat bewildered gratification.

So, maybe it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Meh. He’d never admit it out loud.

…

* * *

 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Madam Hooch asked, eyeing her class closely. “Everyone pick a broom and stand by it.” Shikamaru looked at the sticks with twigs attached with no small amount of reservations. These things were supposed to be safe? He’d sooner trust Naruto not to go running off at the first sight of danger to the village. Which, considering the blond’s personality…

He stepped up reluctantly, not willing to admit that he might be acting a little irrational about this. So, maybe a lot irrational. But he had reasons, namely, the laws of physics. Unfortunately, magic sort of took physics’ laws and burned them, dancing happily on the ashes. He only hoped that the brooms had been enchanted to only go a certain height, or distance or…

And there went Neville. In the air. More than a safe distance, despite Madam Hooch’s sharp reprimands and commands.

Damn his life.

He guessed it was too much to ask of the school to have some safety features installed on their choice of vehicle.

“Get down here, boy!” Madam Hooch ordered, making no move to get on her own broom and chase after him, or even help him with her wand. What was with the incompetence? At this rate Neville would -

Several people screamed as Neville slid off his broom from over one hundred feet in the air. Shikamaru swore violently in Japanese and had his wand out before anyone could do anything except move a little out of the way of the falling boy’s path (and really, what happened to helping those in need? Maybe that wasn’t a thing here though).

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!” he snapped, and Neville jerked to a halt not three feet above the ground. People gaped, the instructor included. Shikamaru breathed deeply and tried not to release any killing intent. No need to make some eleven year olds wet themselves, no need at all. He released the spell and Neville fell to the floor with a muffled thump. There was a moment of frozen surprise, and then Madam Hooch rushed briskly forward and bent down to pick the pale boy up. She didn’t say anything to Shikamaru, but she gave him an approving nod, which was more than he could say about her at the moment.

“No one do anything while I get Mr. Longbottom to the medical wing. Anyone I see on their brooms will be faster than they can say ‘Quidditch’,” she ordered sternly. Then she hustled the still blinking boy away. There was silence for five blessed seconds, and then Malfoy started to laugh. Raucously and loudly, and rather unbecomingly of a noble's son.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?” he said with a sneer. Oh joy. Insecurity issues were about to resolve themselves as a pathetic form of bullying. Shikamaru had quite frankly had enough by this time in the day, and he hadn't even had lunch yet. Whatever karma was causing his life to do this to him, he would like to let it be known that he probably didn't deserve it. Maybe.

Before Malfoy could really get into the spirit of things, picking up Neville's remembrall in a way that made Harry tense (and oh, no, classic rival signs, God help him, Shikamaru was _not_ prepared for another rendition of the Dramatic Duo of Fate and the Future of the World) and opening his mouth to say something snobbish and probably rude, Shikamaru stepped next to him and plucked it from his grasp. Hm. For a boy who claimed to be a Quidditch player, his grip needed work. Also? Shikamaru was not dealing with this now, or ever.

Please and thank you.

“I'm glad you picked that up, Malfoy,” Shikamaru said. Malfoy gaped unattractively. “If you hadn't, it might have been smashed.” He put it very pointedly into his pocket and started towards the castle.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked. He didn't turn around.

“I'm going to find something more useful than standing around on the Quidditch pitch while Madam Hooch reassures herself that Neville isn't, in fact, hurt. That will take a while, so anyone who doesn't want to spend the next hour and half doing nothing might as well leave now. No one will know if you skive off,” he replied. Bad influence? Maybe, but he was too busy being a little bit proud that he'd staved off the Epic Rival Showdown between Malfoy and Harry. He might make respected acquaintances of them yet.

…

* * *

 

“You what.”

It wasn't even a question. Just a statement of complete and utter disbelief that this was the direction the year was going. Harry squirmed under his unimpressed stare. Good.

“He made Seeker on the Quidditch team!” Ron said, clearly feeling no such reservations. “Youngest in a century.” The redhead beamed, forgetting about his food entirely.

“No, I heard that part,” Shikamaru said, still flatly, “I just...how did this happen?” It was official - he couldn't leave these two alone for even an hour. Ron shrugged.

“Malfoy said some stuff and Harry said some stuff back, and then they were racing. McGonagall came out and I thought that was the end of it, but apparently it wasn't,” he said. Shikamaru tilted his head ever so slightly.

“You got a position on the team just because of some racing?” he asked in slight disbelief. Harry shook his head.

“No, we were racing to a tree and he pulled up sooner than I did. I was probably an inch away from running into it,” he said with a slight grin. Of course he'd be excited about nearly braining himself. Bloody _Gryffindors_ (not the last time he'd think that, he just knew it).

“Well, congratulations,” Shikamaru said. He was supposed to offer those, right? He was still trying to process the logic behind the position offer.

“Well done,” a voice said from behind them, and dammit, what was with his observational skills lacking lately? People were just sneaking up on him and he wasn't catching them. Clearly he needed to do some strenuous work to get his skills back up to par. But for the moment…

“We're on the team too, Beaters” Fred Weasley said with a grin. His twin, George, stood behind him with a similar expression of pleasure. “Wood told us - you've got to be good, he was almost skipping when he left to tell everyone else.”

Harry looked a mixture of overwhelmed and pleased, pink with wide eyes. Ador-

No. Not again. Not going down that pathway ever.

“You're the castle’s resident pranksters, right?” he asked to get his mind away from those disturbing thoughts. Fred and George exchanged surprised glances.

“Yes,” they chorused unsurely. He brushed aside a shudder of remembrance from two other menaces and stood up. He was done anyway.

“Good. I have a proposition for you, if you want to hear it,” he said. He led them out of the noisy hall and stopped suddenly. He let them wonder as he pulled out a drawstring bag. “Careful, they're volatile,” he warned as he handed them over. They curiously peaked inside.

“What're these?” Fred asked, pulling out one of the small grey pellets.

“Those are smoke pellets. _Non-vanishable,_ scentless, traceless, and ones that build effect with movement, in fact,” he said. Their eyes widened comically. At least they didn't drop the bag. In fact, George - the one holding them - clutched them closer.

“And?” he asked. “Why are you handing them to us?”

“To give them to you,” Shikamaru said, just because the could. It made them lose their looks of suspicion, so that was a win. “And because I want a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Maybe the returning suspicion was warranted.

“Nothing big. Just a prank to a target of my choice,” he said. He gestured at the bag. “There are twenty pellets in there. They activate by being hit hard by something solid - like the ground - and have a ten meter radius of effect. Movement makes the radius increase and the smoke last longer. It generally sticks around for three to five minutes, but the longest has been twelve and a half, so there's lots of room for margin. They're indestructible, won't be set off by fire or ruined by water, and that bag has locked onto your magical signatures so now it'll only open for you two or me. The bag can't be destroyed or vanished either, by the way.”

By the time he was done, they were looking at him like he was an angel from heaven.

“Yeah, o-of course we'll take them,” Fred said, eyes already glazed with the ideas of future pranks.

“And we’ll prank whoever you want too,” George added quickly. At least he remembered the important things.

“Excellent,” Shikamaru said briskly. “Good doing business with you, gentlemen. I'll be in touch for whenever I need that prank. Happy...pranking.” He needed another word for that so that it wasn't so repetitive. Hm...something to consider in his downtime. He walked away and left them whispering furiously with each other, already wrapped up in whatever teacher's nightmare they were going to do next.

He rather looked forward to it, honestly. The people around here were too complacent. A good prank would shake the monotony a bit. It was sad that there was any in a magical school, but whatever.

When he returned to the table where Harry and Ron were sitting, he was instantly wary. The two of them looked guilty and determined in equal measure, and Hermione looked like she was on the verge of giving a very angry rant. Not good combinations.

“What happened?" he asked the one person who would tell him without bias.

Neville hesitated and then gave in, “Malfoy came over and challenged Harry to a wizarding duel at midnight tonight in the trophy room because of something about his honor. Ron's going to be Harry's second, Crabbe Malfoy’s, and Hermione doesn't think they should go.”

Shikamaru was impressed at the concise report. He thanked Neville and turned to his two friends.

“I'm going to hope that you're not actually thinking of going to this very obvious trap,” he said conversationally. They didn't answer for a minute. Right, Gryffindors. Which meant they had less logic than usual.

“What do you mean, ‘trap’?” Ron asked. Children now. What were their parents teaching them? Clearly common sense was no longer a topic of import. It probably came with the life description of being a wizard. Use magic, make potions, and don't bother trying to make important life decisions that make sense.

Anyway.

“The one where Malfoy tells you where to go and has someone else waiting for you so that you can get caught out past curfew and either lose a lot of house points and get a few months of detention with either Filch, Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape, or you get expelled,” Shikamaru replied. There was a sound of alarm as Harry choked on his juice.

“ _Expe_ _lled_?" Ron asked faintly. Shikamaru nodded sagely.

“Yeah. If he tells Professor Snape, than probably most certainly,” he said. Everyone knew by now that Snape had it out for Harry, and just didn't like Ron as a rule of existence, so he'd probably jump at the chance for expulsion. Which, just no. Things were so much better when they were around to make questionable decisions. Unless they directly affected him, then it was mostly irritating.

Harry and Ron were sufficiently pale through the rest of dinner, thinking over the implications of Malfoy ratting them out which, considering the love for passive-aggressive attacks that nobles seemed to have, weren't very nice at all.

“He would do that,” Ron said at last as they were leaving the Great Hall.

“Hm?” Shikamaru asked, being brought out of his musings on the downsides to nobility.

“Malfoy,” Ron clarified. “He's a sneaky rat like that.” Now that seemed a tad harsh, but he supposed if the shoe fit.

“Exactly. Which is why you two will stay in the room tonight, right?” Shikamaru agreed. They nodded reluctantly. Harry looked like he wanted to argue, but seemed to decide against it at the last minute. Well, at least they were learning.

Or, so he believed.

…

* * *

 

“Psst! Harry! Get up!”

Shikamaru wanted to sigh in exasperation, he really did, but he felt that would defeat the purpose of appearing like he was sleeping. Ron and subtlety did not go hand in hand.

“Yes, I'm up. Now shut up, you'll wake everyone up!”

Neither, apparently, did subtlety and Harry. It was good for them that everyone in this dorm except for Shikamaru were heavy sleepers.

“Alright, let's go.” Ron again. At least they were whispering.

“What if Shikamaru was right and it's a trap?” Harry asked shuffling around.

“Dunno. I suppose we book it,” Ron replied. Shikamaru rolled his eyes and didn't sigh with effort. “I mean, but this way we know for sure.”

Surely they wouldn't actually…

The door to the boy's dorm closed. They would. For a few minutes, he debated the morality of just letting things pan out and letting them learn from their mistakes. Unfortunately, that house loyalty took form of a very annoying thing that he thought he'd left behind.

His conscience.

That it sounded like the Sandaime did not help matters any.

Grumbling mentally, he got up and cast a charm over himself to get rid of any lingering scents and left the room. Where had they said they'd go? The trophy room? Well, if he didn't hurry he probably wouldn't get there in time.

With a stealth born from those who didn't want to be noticed, he made his way quickly to the trophy room in time to hear Filch and a terrified squeak that sounded a lot like... Hermione? What was she doing there? **(1)** Shaking his head, Shikamaru aimed his wand at a suit of armor away from where the Idiot Trio were and muttered a spell to make it move just slightly. It was enough to cause a sound and to draw attention away from them.

He got closer...closer…

_Clank!_

Shit.

Filch’s head whirled around and his eyes honed in where the Idiot Trio were now trying to pick themselves up.

“Run for it!” That was Ron. What was he thinking? Filch would clearly recognize his voice. Shikamaru darted forward, careful to stay in the shadows to have some measure of cover, and heaved Harry and Hermione up.

“Shika-?” Harry started in surprise, but Shikamaru slammed a hand over his mouth. Almost gave him away there, and he did not need that, thanks.

“Move,” he hissed. Then he ran after Ron and heard them start to follow. Ron didn't seem to know where he was going, making turns at random areas in the wild abandon of the panicked.

Finally, there weren't any more noises of pursuit and they stopped, three panting loudly, the other listening intently. They were near their Charms classroom, which was farther from the Gryffindor common room than was preferable.

“I think we lost him,” Harry said through large gusty breaths. Shikamaru was about to tell him not to jinx it, when who should fly out of the classroom but Peeves.

Well. They were screwed. Shikamaru began to think of escape routes even as the others pleaded with the poltergeist to keep quiet. It didn't work, and as soon as Ron swiped through him in frustration, Peeves bellowed.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!”

Shikamaru swore and ducked underneath the ghost, quickly followed by his the Idiot Trio. They soon ran into a locked door.

“We're done for,” Ron moaned, tugging fruitlessly at the handle. Shikamaru shoved him out of the way and unlocked it with a tap. Then, he herded everyone inside and shut it again. Instantly, his senses registered a danger, and he turned around while the other three listened at the door for Filch.

A three headed dog stared back at him. A part of him vaguely remembered it to be a Cerberus. The rest of him was just bemoaning everything he'd ever done to get to this point in his life. It wasn't rock bottom, nowhere close, but it was still terrible. The dog started to growl.

He frowned. If it was an aggressive dog, it would have attacked already. He noticed the slightly wagging tail and the lack of raised hackles. Wonderful. It wanted to _play_. Son of a blood leach, he was not equipped for this kind of situation.

“Oh,” Hermione whimpered upon turning around. Harry and Ron followed suit and paled simultaneously. Harry scrabbled for the door.

“Out, get - get out!” he opened it and they all run out full tilt, just remembering to shut it behind them again on the Cerberus’s protesting barks, all the way to the dorm room. Well. The Idiot Trio ran as fast as they could. Shikamaru just ran a little behind them all to make sure that no one heard the terrible racket they were surely making and came after them for it.

They got through the portrait hole and stopped for a moment. Then, Shikamaru sighed and drew himself up. Whatever expression he had or atmosphere he was exuding had the Idiot Trio stepping back to a safer distance.

Ha. No distance was safe from him at the moment. They'd done the one unforgivable thing (not really, but damn was he irritated about it): they'd motivated him into doing something. The world had better watch out because he was actually motivated to keeping these idiots alive through the years in Hogwarts. **(2)** Somehow he suspected it would end up being far harder than he could be think it could be.

* * *

 

**(1): Neville isn’t mentioned here because his wasn't injured; therefore he didn’t have to stay in the Hospital Wing. Just assume that he returned earlier, even though it wasn’t mentioned.**

**(2): A better reason for motivation, both plotwise and logically, then some feud with Malfoy, though he'll be talking to the little tart soon enough.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author-san note: I'm infinitely sorry for how ridiculously long this has taken, good lord I didn't mean to I swear. As you can see, I'm trying to take this down a more introspective and humorous path, as seen with Shikamaru's dubbing of the Golden Trio as the Idiot Trio instead since they're all so troublesome and exasperating, but anyway. Big talk with them coming up, and I hope you like the changes. I'm trying to make Shikamaru resemble a Gary Stue less since that was a problem both I and some reviewers had. Please leave a review, and peace out.
> 
> Editor-san note: Wondering why the updates are so slow? It's because I'm not updating anymore until the chapters posted on FF are re-written, so no new content until whatever chapter is out is updated, apologies.


	3. Talks and Birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Motivated, miffed, and magical, Shikamaru Nara was a force to behold. Whoever had placed him here was going to get it, but first he’d have to get through a school for magic. And he’d thought ninjas could be stupid. Troublesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done done! Much to Editor-san's disapproval, because this was so late.
> 
> “Speech”  
> ‘Thoughts’  
> Emphasis on words  
> Regular text

**A Shadow in Wizard's Robes Chapter 3: Talks and Birthdays**

**By: AngelicSilverWolf**

_‘Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive that is you-er than you!’ - Dr. Seuss._

* * *

 

**Age 6: Five years before Hogwarts:**

“Come back here!”

Shikamaru grimaced at the shout. Now, why on this questionable Earth would he possibly do that? He continued on and, upon running into a wired gate, looked around and spotted a fire escape. Freedom. Well. Temporary freedom, anyway. At the very least, deliverance. He heaved himself onto a nearby convenient dumpster and lunged for the fire escape above it.

Thankfully he made it. Barely, but it counted. He didn't even have to use chakra. He had his vigorous training to thank for that. He tugged himself up and was just standing up, when his pursuer dashed into the alley. He felt his lips tugging themselves into a smirk, but he restrained himself. It was quite amusing to see his attempted tormenter redder than a tomato with both exertion and anger.

“Hey!” the boy who was older by three years exclaimed, and talk about pathetic, going after a younger child. Even if he was a genius. “You can't be up there!”

Shikamaru shrugged. Technically he was neither allowed nor not allowed.

“I'm gonna tell on you,” the boy continued triumphantly. Shikamaru shook his head in no small amount of derision (he'd never been like that as a child, right?) and climbed off of the fire escape, jumping to the ground below. He rolled off the impact to reduce pain to his legs. Then he offered a final sarcastic two-fingered salute to the boy behind him and ran out of the alley, enjoying hearing sputters behind him.

Now that he had dealt with that nuisance, he was free for the rest of the day. The orphanage had discovered his magic three years ago when they'd caught him walking up the wall (in his defense, he'd been using his chakra, not magic). From then on, they'd made something of an outcast of him and had been very clear in their dislike of his general existence. If he hadn't already lived one life, it would have been very soul crushing. As it was, he returned their sentiments and tried to avoid them all like the plague unless they deliberately sought him out, like today. Then it was all restrictions off and open season on whoever tried to push him around.

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and consider where he would go today. There was that one place he'd heard about from the new woman…

“Are you okay?”

Shikamaru looked up to see a somewhat shabbily dressed man with light brown hair graying at the temples and green-brown eyes staring down at him in concern. He belatedly realized the picture he himself painted, thin and young with worn clothes. The fact that he was panting a little probably didn't do anything to make him less resemble a homeless or neglected child. Which, somewhat true but still. He didn't have to look the part.

It wasn't like he was Naruto though; this body had limitations and he wasn't terribly fit. Kind of hard to be with an unsteady source of food and good environmental hygiene.

“Yeah,” he replied. The man didn't look convinced. To stave off further questions, he added a little suspiciously, “Who are you?” Best to at least try and act his age, though whether or not he would succeed was up for debate.

“You may call me Lupin, I suppose,” the man - Lupin - said with an understanding smile. “And yourself?”

“Shikamaru,” he said. “Can you tell me where I am? I lost the street name a few alleys ago.” He had been trying to keep track, but it was more difficult than expected while also trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. His pursuer's complete lack of anything stealth made it pretty close to impossible without chakra, something he was trying to use only in emergency situations since it was a little suspicious to see a child running along rooftops like a pro parkor practitioner.

“You are still in London, in case you were concerned, a few streets from Charing Cross Road,” Lupin answered. He looked at him curiously. “Do you need help getting somewhere?” Shikamaru was caught between relaxing around this man's apparent innate likeableness and his training to stay away from strangers. Lupin’s offer of aid was the most genuine thing he'd heard in literal years. It was refreshing - and dangerous.

“Well,” Shikamaru said slowly, “I'm trying to reach this place I heard about, just to see if it's still around.” If he phrased it correctly, he'd be able to tell if this man was magical or not. Rather small chance on the former, but he had to start somewhere.

“Ever heard of The Leaky Cauldron?” he asked. Lupin’s eyes sharpened with interest and recognition. So either magical or related to a magical relative.

“It rings a bell,” the man said carefully. “May I ask from where you heard about it?”

Shikamaru smirked a little at the reminder of what had happened. “I live in a nearby orphanage, and the patrons there are very talkative about places like that,” he said. And by talkative he meant vindictive towards. How they all got saddled with over thirty children he'd never know. Realization dawned on Lupin’s face, right before distaste flashed over it, only to be covered by polite interest.

So he'd heard about the orphanage then. Probably nothing good if his face meant anything, but also most likely true.

“I think I know what orphanage you're talking about,” Lupin said. But he didn't extrapolate. Instead, he added, “I know where the Leaky Cauldron is. I can take you there, if you want.”

Shikamaru nodded after a brief hesitation. He was moderately confident that if Lupin turned into a problem, he would be able to create enough noise to draw attention and escape, if not win in a fight. Maybe. He was still working out just how far this body could be pushed before it gave out. It was a bit of a painful and tedious experiment.

Lupin turned and started to walk, not even checking to see if Shikamaru was following, and damn, now he liked him even more. Shikamaru caught up to him easily and thought about starting a conversation. He ended up not doing so and remained silent until they stopped before a nondescript pub some time later.

“Here we are,” Lupin said, gesturing to the building that other people's eyes slid off of and around. Shikamaru peered through a grimy window and saw what was most definitely someone drinking a glass of blood.

“They get all sorts of customers,” Lupin said wryly, answering Shikamaru's expression of slight distaste.

“Clearly.” Well, that was okay. So what if they served vampires and who knew what else in there - no use being xenophobic now when he would probably have to deal with other such creatures in the not so distant future. “Why don't non-magicals see this? It's obviously warded or something, but why so it in the first place?”

Lupin thought for a minute. “The magical community is very private. They don't generally think much of non-magicals - or, muggles. I think they just don't want to be subjugated to muggle whims, they just want to be left in peace,” he replied. So basically they had magic and didn't want to share. Interesting; he wondered if the governments at least knew about each other.

“Well, thanks for getting me here,” he said. Lupin smiled again.

“You're welcome. Would you like me to come inside with you?” he asked. Again, no condescension. What a nice person. He kind of reminded Shikamaru of Iruka - all quiet strength and sincere demeanor; until someone really pissed him off. Then it was everyone for themselves in an effort to escape the splash zone. Shikamaru shook his head anyway.

“No. I'll be fine. The owner is human, right?” he asked, just to check. Not that there were any problems with nonhumans, but he'd be a bit more comfortable if the person he was asking instructions from wasn't eyeing him like he was lunch. Lupin nodded.

“Ask for Tom. He's the owner and bartender. He should be able to direct you to wherever else you want to go,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, Shikamaru.”

Shikamaru nodded in agreement, and then entered the bar. He wasn't great at good byes. Besides, he was sure he wouldn't see Lupin again. What were the chances of that happening a second time?

…

* * *

 

**Present Day:**

Shikamaru stared at the cowering children in front of him. He took a moment to note the effectiveness of his I Am Displeased face for further study and then moved on.

“So, that happened,” he said. They didn't relax. So they had some sense of danger after all. Too bad it hadn't flared up earlier. “And we almost got caught because _some people_ snuck out past curfew to go to a false duel, even though they'd already established that it was probably a trap, because they're apparently incapable of rational thought.”

Ron started to protest, but Harry quickly elbowed him into silence. Probably realized that they deserved whatever they were going to get, especially since Shikamaru had helped them not get caught. He caught Hermione's eye.

“And why did you follow them? You could have just let them go and not risk the extra house points your presence would add.”

No one answered. He sighed. This was going to be his life now, he knew it. Bailing them out when they made decisions like this. Trying to get Harry and Ron to use their limited common sense, and working on Hermione's desire to tell people off if she didn't agree with whatever they were deciding. It would be good for his patience though, maybe not his health. Or it would drive him insane.

He'd just have to see which happened first, the tipping of his mind over the edge, or the Idiot Trio gaining a healthy amount of self preservation. He really couldn't say which would happen first.

“I'm going to bed,” he said, waving a hand. “Think about what I said.” He wanted to add 'and maybe your life choices too’, but felt that this wasn't the time for humor. He was mostly serious, but it was just a little funny to see them shrink down where they stood. Mean? Maybe. But he got his kicks in where he could get them, and they deserved it for motivating him into making a resolution about something so soon into the school year. He'd let them stew tonight and then subtly let them off the hook tomorrow.

…

* * *

 

“But don't you want to know?”

Shikamaru heroically didn't sigh. It would have come out explosive and frustrated and they would have gotten their puppy eyes out and no one would've been happy.

“No,” he said instead, very patiently in his opinion, because this was the fourth time they'd brought up this subject today, and it was dinner time. Perhaps he should have waited longer to let them know he'd forgiven them. “I don't. Why? Because it's none of my business.” Great. Now he sounded like Shino. He hoped that they got the implied message that it wasn't any of theirs either, but no such luck.

“But, why have an enormous dog in a room like that? Where anyone could enter,” Harry persisted, for the fourth time.

“It was locked,” Shikamaru reminded him again, despite himself. He had to interject some logic into this conversation, even though its topic was _none of their business_ (he didn't want to get involved but dammit, this would end up in danger and possibly death if he didn't step in to try to mitigate the damage).

“So, they _were_ guarding something then?” Ron interjected, looking far too invested in the conversation to be healthy. Shikamaru sighed and gave up. Logic and reason had clearly left this conversation for good. He'd missed its brief presence.

“Not necessarily, maybe it was a ploy,” Harry said knowingly.

“What; like some kind of spy movie?” Shikamaru asked, deciding that he might as well try to add some reason. He couldn't beat it, so he'd join in and all that. “No, I don't think so. Besides, what would they have to guard in a school, anyway?”

“Something valuable or rare,” Ron said, almost dreamily. Well, it _was_ a magical school, to be fair.

“Or both.” Harry grinned in excitement. And hope of relative normalcy dead. Burnt up and shriveled and rapidly disappearing in the wind. Never mind, he changed his mind, he couldn't do it. “Shikamaru? Why are you thumping your head against the table?”

Anyway.

After dinner, Shikamaru bid goodbye to his friends, with no small amount of relief - they could handle themselves for a few _minutes_ , right? - and went in search of the person who'd started this whole thing. It was an unfair place of blame, but he did have some justification and he was sticking with it. He caught Fred and George as they were coming out of the hall.

“Shika! Can we call you that? How's it going?” Fred said in delight. Shikamaru ignored the slight pang of nostalgia that name caused and nodded with a lazy half-smile.

“S’good,” he said. “What're you two up to?” Fred and George exchanged mischievousness glances and he raised a hand. “Never mind. I don't want to know. Gives me plausible deniability when McGonagall finds you.”

George gasped dramatically while Fred placed a hand over his heart and did his utmost to look mortally offended. “Mister Nara!” he said, wounded tone lacing every word. “I can't believe that you would doubt our ability to have a proper getaway plan. Especially with the tools you so kindly gifted us.”

Shikamaru raised an unimpressed eyebrow, unmoved by the theatrics. They had nothing on Lee’s and Gai’s Rainbows of Youth (those who saw that were scarred forever and were never the same again). “I meant that McGonagall will suspect you regardless of your escape, and I don't want to accidentally get pulled into it somehow,” he said. Fred and George dropped their pretend offended tone and grinned good naturedly.

“Well, so long as we're clear,” Fred joked. Shikamaru titled his head.

“You don't happen to know where Draco Malfoy is, do you?” he asked. They raised their eyebrows in tandem, and he took a moment to wonder whether it was from practice or coincidence. Or one of those legendary twin soul connections.

“Probably his common room, why?” George asked slowly.

Shikamaru shrugged. “I want to have some words with him.”

Their faces lit up in identical expressions of unholy glee. It was disconcerting, how in sync they were. It also brought back some unpleasant memories of the two hellions in Konoha.

“Oh, is Malfoy Jr. in trouble?” Fred asked.

“Do you perhaps need a prank to settle the score?” George added.

“Do you even know what he did?” Shikamaru asked. Maybe in amusement. Maybe not. And when did his word quota stretch without his noticing? He'd have to think about his disturbing increase in word count later on.

“No, but we figure that if you, Neutrality Nara, are going to 'have some words’ with the little twat, then he did something,” George said. Shikamaru had to concede his clever word play.

“Nothing big,” he said. Well. Besides where he almost caused the probable expulsion of three Gryffindor students through an indirect attack. Other than that, nothing big at all. “I just want to clear some things up.” Fred waved him away easily.

“Stay enigmatic then, we'll find out eventually. You'll come to learn that the Hogwarts gossip mill is unmatched by even the Daily Prophet in terms of time it takes for rumors to spread,” he said cheerfully. Shikamaru acknowledged this with the slightly immature eye roll that it deserved and turned towards the Slytherin common room. He had _Hogwarts a History_ to thank for the location. Really, 'dungeons’ was not a particularly vague hint. He looked around, saw some Slytherins entering and leaving a certain corridor, and followed subtly. He stopped in front of a dead end stone wall and knocked, lightly enough that it could've been mistaken for someone being nudged into it.

It sounded hollow. He smirked in mild triumph. Amateurs. They didn't even bother to make anything real except for the looks and texture. He knocked again, harder, twice. The sound echoed in the damp corridor. He took in his surroundings while he waited. Mostly stone wall and ground, and a few windows from which shone the green light of the lake, casting strange lights over the stone.

He supposed it made sense that the house of green be lit with green light, no matter how eerie. The door melted away and dozens of haughty and slightly hostile eyes looked his way. They'd guessed he wasn't one of them, then.

“Gryffindor,” an older student said, standing up. “What do you want?”

“To speak to Draco Malfoy,” he replied. He could feel the hierarchy that was in place here. Slytherin was a place where respect was earned and position fought for. Seniority mattered, and words meant the difference between being an outcast and being heralded as important. Good thing he had excellent practice in both politics and damage control as Naruto's advisor (as charismatic as the blond was, he still stepped on quite a few toes with his rather brash nature).

And one thing he'd learned was that people were caught off guard with honest intentions. It made them wonder about the genuinity of it and whether there was an ulterior motive. It wasn't good practice to be consistently honest, but every now and then threw others off.

The Slytherin looked quickly at a nearby housemate, who shook his head, before turning back with a blank expression.

“He isn't here,” he said.

Shikamaru quirked up one side of his mouth into a dangerously sharp grin. It wasn't friendly. The surrounding Slytherins leaned away unconsciously. “Shouldn't the house of Snakes be able to _lie_ better?” he asked nonchalantly with an undertone of menace. The Slytherin before him stepped back, and then seemed to catch himself and hastily stepped forward again.

“I can wait here all night,” Shikamaru said. “I won't hurt him. I just want a word.” Now, what Malfoy did after the aforementioned word to possibly cause consequences was entirely up to him.

“For Salazar's sake,” someone Shikamaru vaguely recognized to be Marcus Flint grumbled. “Malfoy! Get your pasty arse out here.”

Respect for the nobles indeed. Age probably took priority. Malfoy pushed through the crowd, and his white complexion paled considerably when he saw Shikamaru casually leaning against the stone doorway.

“Nara,” he said a little unsurely. Then, remembering that he was surrounded by classmates who would love nothing more than to knock the Malfoy heir down a peg, he straightened up. “What is it?”

Shikamaru let himself remain deliberately loose when he shrugged. Like he couldn't possibly care about all of the tension in the room. “Just a talk about Harry's and Ron’s late night activities,” he said. Malfoy's eyes narrowed. “Would you prefer to do this here or outside?” Shikamaru asked. It sounded like he was being nice and giving him a choice, but he was really taking control of the situation by only giving him two options to choose between. Malfoy paused, and then jerked his head towards outside the room. Shikamaru led the way and was sure to cast a silencing spell so that no one could eavesdrop on their conversation **(1)**.

“So, Malfoy. About the duel,” he said, and then turned to look the younger boy in the eye.

…

* * *

 

“Say, Shikamaru? Why does Malfoy look so skittish around you?”

It was breakfast time the day after Shikamaru introduced himself as a person to be wary of to the entirety of the Slytherin house, and the birds were (probably) singing (he couldn't really hear them from inside the castle), the sun was (mostly) shining, and he was feeling much more content with his lot in life now that he'd fixed a minor problem that could have developed into a much larger one later on. Oh, and Malfoy was now avoiding him as much as possible. A win for both sides **(2)**.

“I just had a talk with him,” he said to Ron. The redhead became more interested.

“Really? What about?” Harry asked, looking up from the _Daily Prophet_.

“Underhanded schemes to get others in trouble. Nothing big.”

_“Is this a threat? Potter and Weasley almost got in trouble so they sent their guard dog after me?” A pale but sneering face, and he had to give some credit for the sheer levels of condescension in light of clearly being wrong._

_“No. A warning. From one heir to another. They can handle themselves, and probably will deserve it when they do get in trouble, but I'm telling you to back off now before you do something else moronic and get them_ and _yourself hurt.” He spun gracefully on his heel and prepared to leave. “Just a warning, Malfoy. Heed it or don't. But think about what it would do to your reputation if you actually got caught because you weren't careful enough.” Then, he walked away to let the Malfoy scion think about his words._

_No harm done. Hopefully he'd just inspired a thinking-before-doing mentality._

“Right.” Ron looked positively gleeful with all of the things he was imagining said or done to Malfoy. All of them incorrect, of course.

“Oh, right! For some reason that reminded me,” Harry said suddenly. He dove for his bag and dug around while saying, “Ron and I were talking when I remembered this article from the paper.” He pulled out a clipping with a picture of what looked like the Gringotts goblins.

“So, when I went to the bank the first time with Hagrid, we went to _this_ vault to get something out of it. The very same day, it gets broken into. Very suspicious, yes? So, we figure that whatever Hagrid took out of the bank, it must be what that dog is guarding,” he said excitedly. Shikamaru personally thought that it was a bit of a leap from A to D, but pushed it aside for the more pressing problem.

“Again, does it matter?” he asked. The two gave him startled looks, like they couldn't fathom why it wasn't important. It was times like these that caused him to occasionally entertain the fantasy of what his life would have been like in another house. Like Hufflepuff. They seemed to know when to leave well enough alone. “This should be the sort of thing to leave to the officials and the professors.”

“But don't you want to know?” Harry prodded.

“No,” Shikamaru said flatly. They startled a little at his tone. He sighed. God save him from the horrors of children. Shikadai had _not_ been this bad. Hell, _Naruto_ hadn't been this bad and he'd chased after Sasuke for how many years? “It's dangerous for one,” he continued. He didn't tell them that the only form of attack the Cerberus had intended on doing was one that involved much licking and wagging of its tail.

“Not to mention,” he added when they opened their mouths - probably to protest this clear cowardly act as members of the house of the brave, “We would probably get into lots of trouble by butting in. And if we didn't, it would be incredibly dangerous not to mention hubristic of us to think that we could handle it if the staff couldn't.”

Harry clearly didn't agree, but didn't say anything to refute it, seeing that Shikamaru wouldn't change his mind. After a rather tense pause, Ron said with the air of randomly casting around for any other topic at all, “So you went to the bank on your birthday? I dunno whether you're lucky or not that it isn't during school. Mine is March first.”

“Yeah. I mean, I understand why you would want to have it during the summer, but I think I would actually like to have it during school more. The Dursleys aren't real big on acknowledging it,” Harry said thoughtfully, mercifully going with the change of subject.  Ron winced and his face darkened.

“Tough luck, mate,” he said bracingly. “We’ll just have to give you extra good presents to make up for that sorry lot.”

Shikamaru murmured an agreement as Harry went pink.

“You don't need to do that,” he said weakly. The prospect clearly excited him though. Shikamaru made a mental note to get Hypatia on memorizing Harry's address. She'd sooner peck out some eyes than fail a delivery, so if Mr. Dursley tried to stop her...well, Shikamaru hoped that he had good medical insurance (except not really because that would be just a little bit funny).

“We want to,” Ron said firmly. He turned to Shikamaru. “When is yours then?”

Shikamaru shrugged absently, studying the article on the break-in in spite of himself. There was something interesting about it all.

Whether by coincidence or some strange twist of fate, his birthday was the same as it had been in his previous life. “September twenty second.”

There was another silence, and when Shikamaru looked up his friends were wearing horrified expressions. Even Harry.

“That's in, like, three days!” Ron said. “What the hell? You didn't say anything.”

“Should I have? It isn't a big deal,” Shikamaru said, raising an eyebrow. And, compared with Harry who seemed to believe that he wasn't good enough for one or something, it actually wasn't. This was, after all, his second time turning twelve. Not something particularly momentous to celebrate.

“B-but, how can't you like celebrating your own birthday?” Ron protested, scandalized by the very thought.

“It's hard to appreciate a birthday when there are dozens of people around you who don't celebrate theirs either,” Shikamaru said dryly. Both Harry and Ron’s faces twisted in confusion.

“Dozens? How many siblings do you have?” Ron asked.

“None. I’m an orphan in the overcrowded orphanage, Hope’s Wishes for Young Children. Or, the ‘Orphanage from Hell’, known as such by its younger residents” Shikamaru told them. After a second of the information sinking in, their eyes widened. It was amusing how in sync they were. From expressions to timing on feelings - they could have been brothers. Even Hermione, from a few seats down where she was valiantly trying to pretend that she wasn’t eavesdropping, whipped her head up from the spot in her book that she hadn’t changed since the beginning of breakfast.

“You’re an orphan? So, you’re parents are…” Harry trailed off uncomfortably.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know if they’re dead or not, but they did leave me on the steps of the orphanage,” Shikamaru said. Not that he was incredibly beat up about it; his real parents weren’t in this universe - one wasn’t even alive anymore. He slouched at their aghast faces. “Don’t worry about it. I got over it a while ago.” Twenty some odd years or so was a while by anyone’s standards. Not that he would tell them that part.

It was still a little awkwardly silent on the way to Potions. Shikamaru mildly regretted it but figured he couldn’t do anything to help it pass besides perhaps not mentioning anything else about his personal life. Thankfully he was paired with Neville, so he didn’t have to deal with both Ron and Harry’s (and he’d thought that the latter at least would know better) sympathetic and considering glances. He felt absolutely no pity whatsoever for Ron’s apprehensive expression when he was given Hermione for a partner. Maybe it would get him to stop shooting Shikamaru looks when he thought he wasn’t looking.

The Forgetfulness Potion that they were assigned wasn’t particularly difficult, so Shikamaru focused mostly on helping Neville understand what certain ingredients did when used in certain ways. Neville would never be an expert but this would hopefully help his performance enough to let him pass the class.

“Just don’t touch the Lethe River Water,” Shikamaru advised him as he poured some of the substance into the potion. Neville tilted his head in confusion. “In Greek mythology, the water was strong enough to wipe the memories of those who touched it, permanently.” He had found that Neville did better while being distracted by little bits of trivia, and there was some truth to the myths. It wasn’t a complete memory wipe of course, that would happen with some combinations of other memories, but it did cause temporary loss of memories of the past hour or so. Not a particularly desired condition.

In any case, Neville paled a little and eyed the bottle distrustfully. Now he would watch his movements more. Shikamaru was working to get complete stability in the hands by the end of the year. His eyes tracked Snape’s movements, narrowing in thought as he snidely interrupted another Gryffindor table. He muttered to Neville, “Get ready in three...two...one…”

Snape swirled over to them. Shikamaru’s eyes remained on him but his head bent over the cauldron to check the consistency and color. Correct on all counts, but an actual Potions Master could probably find some faults in it if he was being picky. Neville was tense and clearly frightened, but thankfully his grip on the bottle of Lethe River Water didn’t loosen. In order to keep his friend from losing his commendable control, Shikamaru looked up and met the eyes of his Potions teacher. Immediately he felt another mind touch his.

He didn’t smirk but it was a near thing. Instead, he slouched even further and pointedly yawned. Snape’s eyes narrowed and the probing became more forceful. Because he’d been using the exercises Ino taught him, the assault wasn’t as painful as the first time Snape had tried this on him. He could play this game all day. He kept him out with a nice wall of uncaring attitude, and after another few seconds the man moved on with a thoughtful yet annoyed expression. It took skill to display both of those at the same time - Shikamaru commended the emotional mixes the professor could combine.

Well, at least he hadn’t taken another cheap shot at Neville. If Shikamaru could engineer it so that the two of them had little to no interactions for about two months, he was sure that Neville would vastly improve in both Potions and confidence. And if he had to garner some attention with his unusual mental fortitude...he had to start act on that resolution some time, right? Besides, it would be good practice.

After class, Ron and Harry accosted him outside of the classroom.

“What was that thing with Snape just now?” Ron asked. Shikamaru gave him a somewhat flat look.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Ron made a noise and gestured with his hands in a way that increased his resemblance to a flailing duck.

“That thing where you two just stared at each other for like, ten minutes straight,” he said impatiently. Shikamaru shrugged.

“Bit of an exaggeration. It was more like two, if that,” he said. He couldn’t help the half smile that curled his lips when Ron glared at him for dancing around the topic.

“Why did he stare at you like that?” Harry interjected, coming into his friend’s rescue.

“He was attempting to probe my thoughts via a magical process called Legilimency. I kept him out with a bastardized version of the mental defense, Occlumency. When he couldn’t get in, not for lack of trying though I doubt it was full force, he left. You noticed the eye contact? That’s how he skims thoughts,” Shikamaru told them. They both looked rather horrified at the thought of one of their professors reading their minds.

“Snape’s a mind reader?” Harry blurted out, looking deeply uneasy.

“So you said that he looks at the eyes, right? All we have to do is stop from looking him in the eye?” Ron added a little desperately. Shikamaru nodded slowly. In theory it should work, but he didn’t know enough about the mental arts to give them a definitive answer and told them so. “Better than nothing. I can’t believe that slimy-” Ron cut himself off, looking highly disgruntled. “No wonder he always catches us when we lie.”

“No, you’re all just terrible at lying,” Shikamaru corrected him. “Gryffindor first years are some of the worst liars I’ve ever seen.” And that was something considering that Naruto couldn’t lie to save his life. Then, predicting their next train of thought, he said, “And no I won’t teach you to lie better. Learn to do it yourselves or just don’t lie.”

They disguised their pouting as moody scowls, but since they weren’t teenagers yet it didn’t quite work. Shikamaru just smirked at them and continued on with his day. Ah, the benefits of being a man in a child’s body - he couldn’t succumb to peer pressure or any form of thereof.

…

* * *

 

“Wake up!”

Shikamaru was torn from his sleep (the one that happened once in a blue moon, there had better be a good reason for this) when something soft smacked him in the face. His eyes opened instantly, and he was holding someone’s wrist in a crushing grip before he could think. Then, upon seeing who it actually was, he let go and sank back onto his bed with a groan.

“Ron,” he said, voice muffled in the pillow that hadn’t been used to wake him up, “why are you hitting people with pillows? Is this a new hobby I should be worried about?”

Someone snorted.

“Sorry. We just wanted to wake you up for your birthday presents. Anyway, here you go,” Harry said from somewhere to his right. Shikamaru cracked an eye open in time to catch a present that was tossed in his direction. Shikamaru felt a twinge of gratitude and surprise underneath the rising irritation at having been awoken from an actual REM sleep cycle.

“Any particular reason that he’s waking me up like that  in the first place?” he asked. He wouldn’t talk to Ron for fear of how he would retaliate for this atrocious crime. Harry opened his mouth a little apologetically, but Ron beat him to it.

“You wouldn’t wake up when I called you earlier, so pillow time it was!” he said unapologetically, lobbing a wrapped object at the prone figure. “It’s seven o’clock anyway.”

“Could you all shut up, please?” Seamus growled from behind his bed curtains and at least two pillows.

“Not my fault,” Shikamaru muttered. Then, he drew up short as the sentence processed. “ _Seven_?” he clarified. There was absolutely no hint of a whine in his statement at all. Harry shrugged.

“We wanted to do it early. Apparently it’s tradition,” he said, rolling his eyes. Right. Pretty sure that wasn’t how tradition worked.

His brain was taking a bit to kick into gear, but to be fair; this would have been difficult to comprehend on a normal day. He shook his head. “Alright. Let’s take this outside so that we don’t wake anyone else up.”

The two nodded agreeably and left in relative silence. Shikamaru sighed. Really, the things he did for these people. He dressed quickly and was out of the dorm in record time

“So how does this work…” Shikamaru trailed off, looking in some astonishment at the small pile of presents on a table.

“Here, from Hagrid, Fred and George, and me,” Harry said cheerfully. Hermione and Neville grinned next to him, each holding their own presents. “Tradition states that you open them now.” Well, who was he to break tradition? The peaceful atmosphere was ruined completely by Ron telling him emphatically to hurry it up. He was just breaking all sorts of unspoken rules today, wasn’t he?

“Don’t be rude. It’s his birthday, he can go his own pace,” Hermione scolded him. Neville took one look at the impending argument and wisely stepped away.

Shikamaru ended up getting _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 3_ from Hermione (“Well, I figured it would do since you’re always practicing spells I haven’t heard of before from other books,” she told him with a hint of embarrassment), a truly ridiculously sized box of sweets from Ron that had Neville and Harry gaping in surprise (and he completely blamed the redhead for any and all future cavities he would get), the book _Owl Breeds_ from Harry, an excellent wooden and leather wand holster from Neville that was much nicer than his current second-hand one, another book (interestingly enough) on pranks and tricks from the twins, and a tin of fudge and rock cakes from Hagrid. He’d soften those up by the fire before trying to eat them.

He looked them all in the eye and thanked them one by one with all of the sincerity in the world. Harry and Hermione went pink and muttered replies, Ron just grinned, and Neville (as the only normal one of the lot, really) replied with equal honesty that he was happy to do it. Shikamaru hoped that Neville wouldn’t be corrupted by the Idiot Trio’s strangeness.

Afterwards they all went and visited the grounds, equally glad that it was Saturday, while Shikamaru worked out when he would thank the twins and Hagrid for their presents. They ended up doing nothing except some chess matches, some cloud watching and some amiable talking. Well, Harry, Neville and Shikamaru were amiable. Hermione and Ron spent a lot of the time sniping at each other, much to everyone else’s chagrin. Still, it was a nice day in the scheme of things, and Shikamaru appreciated it for the one of a kind that it was. They would probably be few and far between, so he’d enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

**Forgetfulness Potion: Part of First Year curriculum, causes degree of memory loss in the drinker.**

 

 **(1): Before anyone asks, no, this is not** **_muffliato._ ** **Shikamaru wouldn't know that spell. I imagine that there is more than one spell to prevent people from listening in on conversations.**

**(2): Shikamaru will, later on, attempt to decrease the gap between the houses, but right now he doesn't really have cause to and therefore won't try that hard.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author-san finally finished this and would like it to be known that she suffered for her delay.  
> Editor-san *raps the butt of the horsewhip in her hand against Author-san's head*. : Finally! Now, on to chapter 4!  
> Author-san *cries and cowers*: Yes, Master. I will now finally start to deserve my readers by slaving away some more.  
> Editor-san: Good. 'Bout damn time.


	4. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Motivated, miffed, and magical, Shikamaru Nara was a force to behold. Whoever had placed him here was going to get it, but first he’d have to get through a school for magic. And he’d thought ninjas could be stupid. Troublesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omigosh, so sorry right now. But we've been entirely too busy. No excuse, but you know. Here is the re-written 4th chapter, and the 5th is on its way, but no promises.

**A Shadow in Wizard's Robes Chapter 4: Halloween**

**By: AngelicSilverWolf**

_‘A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out,’ Walter Winchell_

* * *

 

 

**Age 8: Three years before Hogwarts.**

 

Shikamaru had to admit, he didn't think they would sink this low. Naïve of him, sure, but honestly. Who would’ve suspected this?

He gave a hard look at the matron of the orphanage and then returned his stare to the man in front of him. His new...therapist. Great.

“Can I at least ask why?” he sighed, irritated. Just one more way to try and control him - it was getting old.

“Well, some people around here were getting worried about your night terrors,” she said carefully. He raised an eyebrow that spoke of his disbelief. If she was going to lie she should’ve at least tried to make it plausible. They both knew that the only thing people around here were worried about was him flying off the handle and using his magic in despicable ways to murder them all.

“Right,” he drawled. He gestured at the man who was watching the conversation intently. “So your solution is a shrink?”

She frowned at him while the man perked up at the terminology.

“I see what you meant about acting different from his age group,” he said to the matron. She nodded.

“Indeed. We were concerned about his social development,” she said. Her fake earnestness got on Shikamaru's nerves.

“You know, it would be nice if you stopped pretending that I wasn't here,” he said with a bite of impatience. He wasn't particularly in the mood for this conversation. Last night had been a short scene of how the war could have gone. Suffice to say it ended painfully and with lots of death.

“Of course, excuse us,” the man hurried to say. The condescending kindness irritated him. At least the adults here acknowledged his maturity, even if they didn't like him. If they picked up on this behavior, it might actually drive him insane.

Still, there no need to let the man know exactly how different he was. Operation: Fool the Fool was underway. So, in an uncharacteristic show of childishness, he crossed his arms and scowled. “Weren't you just saying that I was different from my age group?” he snapped. Satisfaction flashed through him, though he was careful not to show it, when the man raised a placating hand. Like he would with a temperamental child. Better to play the part he expected to see.

“I apologize. You are different,” he said. Shikamaru pretended to think about it, and then relaxed slightly. No need to go overboard with it though.

“It isn't your fault that she thinks I'm crazy,” he allowed. It was the man's fault for trying to pose as something he clearly was not. If he was an actual therapist intent on helping Shikamaru, then he wasn't a reincarnated ninja who hadn't actually died (still a bit unclear on that, by the way).

“That's right. He's here to clean up your act,” the woman sneered. Shikamaru didn't have to fake the look of bored derision he shot her.

“Now, now, let's not fight,” the man said in alarm. He turned to her. “Why don't you leave us to our meeting now? Thank you for the help.”

It clearly wasn't a suggestion, and Shikamaru didn't bother to hold back the mocking smirk as she left with a burning glare. He turned back to see the man watching him carefully. It was easy to fake defensiveness and distrust. Most of it was true, but he kept everything else hidden. Besides, it wasn't so much defensiveness as it was wariness and warning. If the man tried anything, Shikamaru could easily arrange for him to have an _accident_.

“Now then, let's sit. May I call you Shikamaru?” The man continued at his slight nod, “My name is Dr. Avery. I understand that you've been having some nightmares? What do those entail?”

Shikamaru had a premonition of uncomfortable times ahead and decided that his life just became far more troublesome. He wanted a smoke.

…

* * *

 

“Well? Is it he?”

“Yes, Lucius. He's a tricky one. Smart, but still a child. She overestimated his ability to perceive.”

“If you're wrong about this, Avery…”

“You heard Rowle.”

“Ah, yes. Rowle. He is not the most...trustworthy of sources.”

“His memory isn’t tampered with, and nor is it cloudy. The prophecy is real.”

“Very well. I expect you will take the lead on this?”

“Certainly. But we must give him time. Indoctrination and trust are slow processes. He doesn’t know yet.”

“He’ll find out in time, and should he be unwilling, I want you to use any means necessary to ensure his cooperation.”

“Of course. He will help the Dark Lord rise once more whether he wants to or not.”

…

* * *

 

**Present**

 

Shikamaru gave himself one day in October to think about his past life. He also held a silent celebration for Naruto's birthday, asking the twins where he could find the kitchen house elves, who were more than happy to try a new recipe. They were delighted by the challenge he presented them with. Apparently ramen actually required some technique - the real stuff anyway. He separated himself from his friends and any company for one day, thankful that it was a Saturday, by explaining that he was honoring the memory of someone he was separated from.

The subject was dropped immediately, and he pushed away the guilt at the deception. Technically it was true, even if they didn't understand the context in which he meant 'separated’. When he emerged, they acted as if nothing had happened and he was grateful.

Hermione nagged him about the circles under his eyes and his continued unhealthy sleeping cycle, recommending all sorts of tips for better sleep; Ron talked about Quidditch and moaned about homework; Harry quietly asked about his health exactly once and then joined Ron on the Quidditch talk; and Neville just said, “Glad you're back,” and left it at that.

Shikamaru deeply appreciated this. He didn't particularly want to tell them the reason behind his disappearance. They seemed to assume that his mellow mood stemmed from memories of the orphanage, and he was perfectly fine with letting them continue to think this. He was...less fine when they started to - subtly for them, which meant not at all to anyone else - inquire about it. It wasn't that he enjoyed keeping secrets, but he figured it was better to keep it quiet so that they didn't get any ideas about his summer life.

It wasn't terrible, especially not compared to Naruto’s, but it wasn't particularly ideal either. He disliked the orphanage and that was it.

He also had nightmares, but silencing spells and little sleep prevented that from becoming known. He wrote a few down, as per recommendation from his last life, but otherwise they went unacknowledged. Healthy? Not really. He probably had PTSD, but it wasn't like there were a whole lot of triggers in this world for him. Unless there was someone out there secretly practicing hand seals (unlikely).

“Hey, Shikamaru,” Ron said abruptly. Shikamaru looked up from his essay - another one, and good God, these teachers had absolutely _no_ creativity with the assignments they gave out - to see his friend frowning. He saw the other three inch closer and recognized that they were about to have, as Hermione called it, a bonding session. He straightened in his seat as he saw the concerned looks the trio was sprouting.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“What's wrong?” Ron asked. Hermione rolled her eyes at this lackluster approach.

“What?” Shikamaru said in slight confusion.

“We've noticed that you've been distracted lately. More than usual, I mean. Yesterday, I tried for a solid five minutes to get your attention, but you were just spacing out. It was weird,” Hermione interjected. Shikamaru frowned thoughtfully. Had he done that? He couldn't remember. That wasn't good. Though, now that he thought about it, he could remember Hermione shooting him furtive glances throughout the day. Damn, he clearly wasn't as aware of his surroundings as he needed to be. Before, he had a comrade to pull him out of his thoughts, but children wouldn't really expect it or know how to snap him out of it.

“Sorry about that, Hermione. I tend to get really deep in thought and it's hard for people to get me out of it,” he told her. She shook her head.

“I know that, I've seen you do it before. But you've been doing it more lately. Any particular reason why?” she pressed. When he remained silent, she said hesitantly, “Is it because of the orphanage?” As much as he would like to blame the place, he could only use the excuse so many times before they started investigating his home life more.

Instead he sighed and said, “Nah. I'm just thinking about some old friends. Haven't seen them in a while.” Twelve years, in fact. Kind of a long time not to see his family.

“Oh yeah? Why not?” Harry asked, perking up now that they weren't talking about the orphanage. It made him uneasy to hear about the place that he could have gone if not for the Dursleys.

“They live really far away. Somewhere Asian. I can't really contact them because I don't know their addresses or anything,” Shikamaru explained. Asia, the Elemental Nations, same thing. “They got mixed up in some...gang work, so it would be dangerous to try anyway.” Gangs, ninja, all sides of the same coin, right?

“Gangs?” Hermione looked properly disturbed.

“What're gangs?” Ron asked curiously, switching his gaze between the two of them.

“They're groups of people who control large areas. Usually they're in cities, and are quite often very violent and territorial,” she said, biting her lip. “You aren't part of one, are you?” She looked at Shikamaru in concern. He lopsidedly smiled at her.

“No. That's just them,” he said.

“Couldn't you try the police if they're having trouble with gangs?” Harry asked. Shikamaru shook his head.

“Not really. They like to have local law enforcement in their pockets, or they have member or two on the force to keep from getting in trouble,” he said. The ANBU were the law enforcement in Konoha since the Uchiha were gone, and considering what the ANBU force's reputation...well, civilians tended to hesitate to ask for help. No telling what could cause an operative to crack.

“Well, as long as you're safe, what does it matter?” Ron asked reasonably. Hermione scowled at him.

“He's obviously worried about his friends,” she began hotly. Shikamaru cut her off.

“No, they can handle themselves. If anything, I would worry about the people around them. They tend to get a little extreme,” he said.

This silenced her, and the conversation switched again. Somehow he figured that she would find a way to corner him about this later. Oh well, life was like one big Shoji game. Sacrifices had to be made, even if it was his dignity.

…

* * *

 

Harry was concerned. Mostly about his Potions grade (if he didn't clean up his act he'd have to take remedial Potions, and _no one_ wanted to do that), but also about Shikamaru. He had the feeling that his friend was hiding some big, but no matter how much he wracked his brain, he couldn't think of what it might be. And any attempts to find out what it was were brushed off with frustrating ease. At least Shikamaru's classes were going well - all the teachers liked him besides Snape, but the Potions Master seemed to tolerate him, which was more than Harry himself could say.

He'd just have to watch his friend closer was all. Of course these worries were put in the back burner of his mind when an owl dropped a broomstick in front of his face. Shikamaru could take care of himself while he tried out this broom.

…

* * *

 

Shikamaru's breakfast was disturbed when some owl dropped a broomstick in front of Harry, causing toast to fly, a juice to spill, and curses to fill the air. This was, of course, before everyone saw the package.

Shikamaru read the note while Ron went into raptures, and scoffed under his breath. Professor McGonagall couldn't have been serious about the secrecy. A broomstick wasn't exactly a common shape, and no matter what model it was, a first year having one was definitely unusual. There would be all sorts of talk tomorrow about Harry getting one when no one else could. Maybe that was her point though - what did he know about teacher intentions?

Harry and Ron dragged him away from his breakfast so that they could go drool over the thing properly in the dormitory, but they were interrupted by Hermione halfway up the stairs.

“Harry, I cannot believe that you're accepting the broom. You got it because you broke the rules,” she said disapprovingly. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged.

“Professor McGonagall gave it to me - it can't have been that bad, can it?” he said. She paused.

“She did?” she said. Harry nodded and dug around for the note.

“There, see? Teacher approved. Can we go now?” Ron asked impatiently. She nodded rather dazedly. Clearly the note was turning her world upside down. Shikamaru offered her a pat on the shoulder before he followed the other two upstairs. She'd have to learn that teachers weren't infallible someday.

Thoughts of the disillusioned brunette behind them were cast aside when Harry revealed the broom. Ron sighed in awe and Shikamaru had to admit that, despite his distaste for the objects themselves, it was very masterfully crafted. Everything from the sleek handle to the straight twigs spoke of time and concentration. Or magic.

The last thought sort of ruined the image for him as he imagined the magical equivalent for an assembly line.

Eventually, Shikamaru pulled them away to their classes despite Ron's insistence that they could afford to skive off just this once. Shikamaru pointed out that McGonagall wouldn't be impressed at all and might just take the broom back if they did - he wasn't serious, he didn't know, but it did the trick. Ron remained suitably quiet about skipping classes.

Afterwards, the other two boys wasted no time in taking the broom out to fly. Shikamaru declined the invitation and went to the Forbidden Forest. He was under a Disillusionment charm so no one saw him, and he took a minute to think as he stood in front of the line of trees. Having grown up in a village among an enormous forest, this was like coming back home. It would be familiar, training here. So he did.

For the next two hours, he practiced his weapons throwing and sparing with Kage Bunshin Henged as different people. He avoided the native creatures there, quite sure that questions would be asked if the occasional centaur he saw found a giant spider stabbed through with an unidentifiable weapon - his Kage Nui. Instead, he stuck to the tree branches and the tree trunks and worked himself into a light sweat. Then, he left the forest and headed towards the Great Lake. He did laps across the diameter of the lake for a half hour or so before spawning another Kage Bunshin to spar against. He wasn't particularly skilled with taijutsu, but Naruto had made some changes in his reign as Hokage, demanding that ninjas at least be proficient in more than two fields. Shikamaru wasn't fantastic at genjutsu either, so taijutsu came second behind ninjutsu and possibly kenjutsu. Sasuke had been put in charge of making sure anyone who made jounin could hold their own in their chosen fields alone.

The sun was setting when he lifted the charm hiding him and went back to the castle, tired but satisfied. All around a good day. The trio shot him questioning looks as he sat down next to them during dinner.

“Where have you been all afternoon?” Harry asked, eyeing his dirty and slightly torn clothes. Shikamaru shrugged nonchalantly.

“Took a walk,” he said. “Cleared my head.” Training had helped him with some of the stress of figuring out how to fulfill his mission so that he could get home, and to release some tension. Temari liked to call him lazy, but the truth was that he was wired just like any ninja; action calmed him and adrenaline was an ally. Ron eyed him skeptically.

“Right. A three hour walk,” he repeated. Shikamaru turned to his food and the subject was dropped. After a minute, Harry said hesitantly, “Hey, Shikamaru?”

He looked up expectantly.

“I just wanted to know about the orphanage,” Harry said carefully. Shikamaru slouched warily in his seat, and then made a mental note to fix the tell. It was subtle, but it was irritating to have one in the first place.

“Not much to know. It's pretty normal,” he said. Well, except for the fact that it was run by bitter squibs and muggles who escaped the Statute because of family associated with the wizarding world. But he figured his orphanage wasn't the only one with prejudice against certain types of people.

“I just, I've never been to one before. I mean, if I didn't have the Dursleys then I would have gone there, right?” Harry said. Shikamaru didn't think so.

“I doubt it. You're kind of famous, in case you didn't know,” he said wryly. Ron's head shot over to glare at him.

“You _do_ know who he is!” he said indignantly. Shikamaru nodded slowly.

“Yes, Ron, I know who Harry is,” he said patiently.

“The why did you pretend that you didn't on the train?” Ron demanded. Oh, right. That. Shikamaru smirked slightly.

“Well, I didn't want to add to the hero worship already happening in there,” he said mildly. Ron flushed and scowled at him. “Besides, did you really think anyone associated with wizards could really not know who _Harry Potter_ is? He ended the war that killed hundreds. It's pretty hard to ignore that,” Shikamaru continued. “I rather think that had he not had blood relatives, anyone would have been fine adopting him. I'm a random orphan - hence the orphanage.”

There was a somewhat awkward silence at this revelation. They seemed to think that the assessment was too harsh, but Shikamaru was pretty realistic about it. Why would a wizard family take in an orphan who just _happened_ have magic, and why would a muggle family take in a kid who had real life magic, along with a whole list of rules and regulations to follow?

Harry broke in, looking highly uncomfortable with the subject matter. “What’s the orphanage like?” he asked curiously. Shikamaru took a moment to choose what to tell them. No doubt they wouldn't be pleased with the behavior or any social interactions he'd ever had there, and he didn't trust the therapist so it would be better not to mention him at all.

“It's alright,” he said finally. “I've heard of worse. They feed us and give us rooms and clothes. I dunno. The adults are pretty busy most of the time, so it's not like there's a lot of one-on-one time.” And thank God for that. He didn't like to spend any time in close proximity with the inhabitants there. Not only would they try to immaturely insult him, but they weren't particularly intelligent conversationalists. Even his therapist - two days in and Shikamaru could feel his brain cells degrade from the unsubtle attempted manipulation that was happening. He didn't know why the man tried anymore; it clearly wasn't working.

“They educate the younger children on the basics but save most of it for school,” he said thoughtfully.

“Who runs it? There has to be some wizards or something if it's for magical children,” Hermione asked.

“Actually, there aren’t any wizards,” he told her. And he would have to be very careful how he phrased this to prevent further questioning. “It’s run by a mixture of relatives of muggleborns and squibs.”

“What’s a squib?” Harry asked curiously.

“It’s like the opposite of a muggleborn. Someone who comes from a magical family but doesn’t have magic,” Hermione said instantly.

“I was almost a squib,” Neville butted in. All eyes in the conversation turned to him. “I’m sure everyone in my family thought so except for my great uncle. _I_ thought so.”

“How are squibs treated as opposed to muggleborns?” Harry asked. Shikamaru sat back, work done. The topic would inevitably bounce around back to its starting point, but by then dinner would be over and he could go to sleep. This was an interesting conversation topic though, since he didn’t really know much about it. He was probably a little biased in regards to squibs, so he decided to just listen.

“I’d have to say worse,” Ron answered with a slight frown. “I mean, yeah purebloods sneer at muggleborns and all, but imagine the shame they’d make their child feel if it didn’t have magic.”

This caused a contemplative silence. Neville looked especially uncomfortable, no doubt quite aware of what his status could have been. ‘ _And that,’_ Shikamaru decided, ‘ _is enough of that.’_ Hey, he might have used him as a convenient distraction, but he didn’t want him to get depressed or anything.

“Anyone got plans for Halloween?” he asked. It wasn’t like him to make small talk, let alone instigate a conversation over a holiday that he didn’t even celebrate, but sacrifices for the greater good and such. Fortunately they seemed to understand.

“Not really. My parents are dentists, so they don’t really approve of the entire concept of going out and begging for candy from strangers,” Hermione said smoothly. Neville seemed to sigh in relief as others joined in. Shikamaru answered his grateful glance with a nod and a crooked smile.

Sometimes he was thankful to be around children - they could be more insightful than adults at times.

…

* * *

 

And the next day he remembered why he generally wasn’t fond of children.

It started out well enough. Halloween day and the entire school was buzzing with energy. They were all looking forward to the feast at dinner. Even the dignified seventh years looked impatiently at their watches for time to end. The trio found themselves agreeing, not arguing, and generally being civil to one another during the day, something Shikamaru was incredibly thankful for.

Of course, because nothing could ever have been simple with his friends, Charms class was a disaster. It began with Ron failing every attempt at the Levitation spell and Hermione performing perfectly, and it ended with Ron's bitter comment about Hermione's lack of friends and her running off because she heard him (Shikamaru would later think this to be the most ironic day). **(1)**

Shikamaru turned around as her hair whipped around a corner.

“What the hell was that?” he asked in a deadly calm. Ron backed away; discomfort fading to shock and an edge of fear in the face of his friend's icy temper. Shikamaru reigned in his cold anger with more effort than he liked to admit. “'No friends’?” he repeated flatly. “What the fuck are we then?” The statement was made more profound by how inflectionless he made it.

Ron didn't answer, shame flashing over his face briefly. Shikamaru leveled a coolly furious glare at him. This was new. He'd never shown this much anger towards his friends before, but he couldn't help his reaction. Many of his friends had been bullied or teased or even abused as children, and he was so damn _tired_ of having people he knew get their confidence and spirits destroyed because of jealousy and fear.

He wouldn't let this fester and grow into an enormous insecurity. “Clean up your act, _Ron_ , because this is _not_ how you keep friends,” he said with an undercurrent of steel in his voice. Then, he turned and left, scattering people as they registered his emotionless expression that somehow conveyed anger better than any flare of temper.

In order to keep from saying something to damage their friendship permanently, Shikamaru kept to himself for the rest of the day. It wasn’t that hard to stay separated from Harry and Ron. They seemed to recognize that he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and they kept away. Neville said nothing, just sat next to him in silent support. Shikamaru appreciated it, even if he never said so.

Later, after eavesdropping on a conversation between Parvati and Lavender, he ventured stealthily to the girl’s bathroom where sounds of crying could still be heard.

“Hermione?”

The crying stopped as he stepped inside. She raised her head in disbelief.

“Shikamaru?” she sputtered. “What - you can’t be in here - it’s a girl’s bathroom!” He shrugged.

“No one else is in here, and you won’t tell,” he said easily. He sat down a little gingerly next to her and awkwardly put a hand on her back (he might have gone to comfort her, but he never claimed to be _good_ at it) and let her cry a bit more. After some time he asked, “How are you feeling?”

She sniffled slightly. “Better, I think. Cries always tire me out though,” she admitted. He didn’t really cry, so he couldn’t relate. But he did understand the exhaustion from an emotional rush. She sighed. “I just...I don’t understand how he could say that. Unless we aren’t actually friends. I _thought_ we were, but I have misunderstood before-”

“You didn’t misunderstand,” Shikamaru interrupted firmly. “Ron is just a typical boy with emotional issues.” She snorted.

“Are you included in that category?” she asked dryly. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Doubly so, since I'm a genius. Didn't you know that we're socially stunted?” he told her. She giggled. “Besides, Ron probably has some attention issues, what with so many siblings and all.”

“I didn't think about that. I guess it would be hard to have that many siblings,” she said with a frown.

“Not that it excuses his behavior,” he sighed. If he thought about it too hard it would piss him off again, so he brushed it aside for later.

“Sorry to make you miss the feast,” she mumbled, wiping her face off with her robes. He shook his head and pulled out a tissue, handing it to her. She accepted gratefully.

“Don’t worry about it. I don't care that much about Halloween or food,” he said. He leaned back against the wall. She leaned against him and dropped her head on his shoulder. She didn't complain about his thin shoulders or his somewhat rigid body at the contact.

He breathed steadily. He relaxed. Suddenly she giggled.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing. Just, imagine if we fell asleep in here and someone found us,” she said in amusement. “I’d like a picture of their faces at a boy willingly being in a girl's bathroom.”

“As long as it wasn't McGonagall or Snape, I'd be okay with that,” he agreed. She giggled again. They sat in silence for a bit.

“Listen, Shikamaru-” she began, but Shikamaru wasn't listening.

“Quiet,” he said softly. She shut up immediately. He carefully pushed her away and got up into a crouch. He thought he'd heard someone coming towards them. He waited in silence, but no one came in.

“Shikamaru, what-” Hermione started again. Then, a troll stomped into the bathroom. And it turned to look right at them.

Hermione screamed and Shikamaru swore.

“Down!” he barked, forcing her to the ground as the troll swung its enormous club in their direction. Fortunately the rumors of troll intelligence and accuracy were true, for it missed and cracked the wall behind them instead. “Move! I'll distract it.”

He shoved her towards the far wall and took out his wand.

“ _Diffindo_!”

A large chunk of the troll’s club cracked and broke off, but it didn't split the thing like he'd hoped.

Hermione screamed again as the troll took aim at what it gauged to be the largest threat. Shikamaru ducked and it destroyed the stall nearest to him.

“Hermione!”

Harry and Ron’s timing was uncanny, Shikamaru thought. They just happened to find the largest spot of trouble and dive headfirst into it. How the hell was he supposed to keep them out of trouble if they insisted on finding it?

“Take her and go!” he said sharply, rolling out of the way of another swing. “Find a teacher and bring them here.” At their hesitation, he rolled his eyes. Gryffindors and their propensity to be heroes. He supposed he was in that category now though. “ _Now_!”

Finally, Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm and left. Ron stayed behind but thankfully out if the way.

“What can I do?” he asked anxiously, watching as Shikamaru took off another chunk out of the club.

“Get rid of its weapon or stay out of the way,” Shikamaru ordered tightly. The problem was that troll hide was thick enough to withstand most of the spells that he knew - something he'd rectify once he got out of here. So that left…

“Troublesome,” he muttered dodging left and backing up to himself a head start. He stowed his wand. When the troll struck once more and his club got stuck in the ground, he moved.

“Shikamaru, what-” Ron cut himself off in shock as Shikamaru darted forward and up the troll’s trapped club, going all the up to the shoulders. Then he gracefully ducked around the swerving head and landed on the creature's shoulders, sticking solely through chakra. He crouched down to dodge another flail of an arm.

Club forgotten entirely, the troll moved about wildly, waving its arms and stumbling around. Shikamaru ignored this and stayed attached. He drew two kunai from his holster and plunged them into the creature's muscled neck. It bellowed in pain and crashed about even more. It went to ram itself into the wall, and Shikamaru jumped up and landed on its head.

In its efforts to get him off, the troll got closer to Ron and made a wild grab for him. Shikamaru flipped onto its back again, pulled out the kunai, and then drove them into its back once more. Roaring, the troll caught hold of his billowing robe - he'd always known the damn things would get him in trouble - and threw him into the wall. Because of the close quarters (and because his reflexes weren't as sharp as they shouldn't have been, something else to work on), he hit the wall and cracked both the tile and what felt like a few of his ribs.

The troll advanced menacingly on him.

“Oi! Peabrain!” Ron's desperate and scared, yet defiant voice called. Something hit the troll's head with a loud thunk. Gritting his teeth, Shikamaru stood as the troll turned, having picked up its club once more, and moved towards Ron. It started to swing. Oh, _hell_ no.

“ _Kawarimi no Jutsu_!”

He made it in time. The club missed him and slammed into the floor next to him. Ron, meanwhile, gaped as he tried to figure out how he and Shikamaru had switched places. Then, as the troll raised his club again, a stroke of brilliance hit him.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!” he shouted, brandishing his wand. The club slipped from the troll's hand and was held suspended in the air. The troll stopped to stare at it. Then, it dropped and crashed onto the beast's head, knocking it unconscious. It swayed, and then leaned decisively in Shikamaru's direction. Ah, shit.

“ _Impedimenta_!”

The professors had finally arrived. About damn time.

…

* * *

 

Poke.

Nudge.

Cough.

Poke.

Nudge.

Sigh.

Poke.

Nu-

“Stop or I swear, you troublesome idiot,” Shikamaru grumbled, opening his eyes blearily. He glared half-heartedly at Ron, who made an innocent face. “What? I'm trying to sleep.”

“You slept all of yesterday,” the redhead pointed out.

“Leave him alone. He faced a troll four days ago,” Hermione scolded, though her lips twitched in amusement.

“But it's the weekend! This time shouldn't be used for sleeping. You're the one who wanted to come outside,” Ron complained, lounging against a tree.

“It was for peace,” Shikamaru said pointedly.

“Good luck with that,” Harry said. Shikamaru swore they were getting cheekier by the day.

“What do we even have to talk about? We've exhausted every possible theory about the troll,” he sighed.

“I dunno, but we shouldn't just-”

“Ron,” Hermione said a little severely.

He stopped. She continued, “Shikamaru has spent the past four days in the Hospital Wing. Two because of the troll. The other two because he collapsed in Potions class. Remember? I think he's deserved his rest.”

Ron sighed and flopped to the ground while Shikamaru didn't even bother to hide a grimace. A fit of PTSD in Potions, and he was dragged to the Hospital Wing. He didn't like it any more than an actual hospital and had been more than ready to leave.

“Yeah. Snape had to save you again,” Ron snickered suddenly. Another thing. Snape had helped him twice in four days - somewhat bizarre in his and everyone else's minds.

“At least _I_ didn't try to attack him,” Shikamaru said, stretching out on the ground. Ron sputtered through excuses, and Hermione and Harry chuckled.

Life was good.

* * *

 

  **Charms (Spells):**

**Disillusionment Charm (Unknown Incantation): Spell used to conceal target. This makes the target act as a chameleon, taking on colors and textures of the environment to blend in.**

**Severing Charm (Diffindo): Used to precisely and accurately cut something.**

**Levitation Charm (Wingardium Leviosa): Spell to make things fly or levitate.**

**Impediment Jinx (Impedimenta): A jinx that slows or stops the target.**

** Ninjutsu (Techniques):  **

**Kage Bunshin no Jutsu (Shadow Clone Technique): Creates copies of the user, splits chakra in half for each clone, and transmits memories of the clone to the user after it (they) dispel(s). B-rank, hand seals are Clone seal, or Tiger seal.**

**Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Technique): Changes the user into other people, objects, animals, or plants.  E-rank, hand seals are Dog – Boar – Ram, in that order.**

**Kage Nui no Jutsu (Shadow Sewing Technique): Materializes shadows to attack and bind targets. The shadow is changed into multiple sharp needles and these are controlled separately. Unknown rank, seals are Rat – Bird, in that order.**

**Kawarimi no Jutsu (Body Replacement Technique): User replaces their body with something else, generally to escape attack. E-rank, hand seals are Tiger – Boar – Ox – Dog – Snake, in that order.**

* * *

 

**(1): You know, I said it was ironic, but I can’t really remember why anymore. Maybe you guys understand me than I do myself?**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author-san is done. It's coming when it's coming, she can't promise any more than that. And she would like for Editor-san to stop throwing things at her. *Dodges forks and a stapler*
> 
> Editor-san refuses to do so until this is caught up and updating regularly. Don't worry, Editor-san will make sure the next chapter is out in a semi-timely manner.
> 
> Thanks for the love!


	5. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Motivated, miffed, and magical, Shikamaru Nara was a force to behold. Whoever had placed him here was going to get it, but first he’d have to get through a school for magic. And he’d thought ninjas could be stupid. Troublesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. ...Yeah, that's about all I have to say right now. Other than that my editor is a slave-driver, but for a good cause, yes? Please enjoy this.

**A Shadow in Wizard’s Robes Chapter 5:** **Progress**

**By: AngelicSilverWolf**

_ ‘First comes thought; then organization of that thought, into ideas and plans; then transformation of those plans into reality. The beginning, as you will observe, is in your imagination.’ - Napoleon Hill _

* * *

 

**Age 7: Five years before Hogwarts**

“And we are  _ ready _ .”

“And you're sure this will work.” Shikamaru looked at the working - hypothetically - rocket model. His friend, Dan, nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah. I tested out so many parts, it's not even funny,” he said, liberally applying duct tape.

“Parts,” Shikamaru repeated. “But not the actual rocket.”

“I'm sure it'll be fine. You doubting me?” Dan stood and fixed him with a frown.

“Yes,” Shikamaru said flatly. Dan grinned good naturedly.

“There’s my pessimistic partner in crime. But seriously, don't worry about it. It'll be fine. Now, back up unless you wanna catch on fire. Or, just in case...you know.”

“In case it explodes and sends shrapnel our way.” Shikamaru did back up though.

“Yeah. Which it won't, but there's gotta be  _ some _ safety precautions.” Dan fumbled for his controller, retreating to stand beside his friend. “Alright. We're gonna be famous. Let's just take a minute to  _ look _ at it.”

“Not too long. Someone will come to find out where we've been,” Shikamaru told him. He looked all the same. It was rather messy and befitting of two genius children who could care less about the appearance on the prototype, but it was impressive all the same. It was almost completely black, but Dan had found a silver pen and written on the side, _ Dan Hill and Shikamaru Nara present: Nighty Night, Bitches! _

“This is gonna be great.” Dan beamed. “Alright. Count down. T minus ten, nine, eight-”

In spite of his reservations, Shikamaru was curious to see where this would go. Should it succeed, Dan would be correct in how much attention the two of them would receive. Just for safety, he ensured that he was in front of the other boy.

“-three, two, one,  _ blast off _ !” Dan hit the button, and the tiny engines fired up. Then, it all went wrong. Of course it did. Bad luck was contagious, and Shikamaru's had apparently spread to Dan and he hadn't noticed until now.

“Oh, shit!” Dan yelped. Shikamaru's slightly slower than acceptable reflexes made him stretch out his arm to catch the enormous bar of metal streaking towards them. Because he was too slow, he just barely missed it. It didn't hit him either way.

He looked in fascination at the metal held suspended by…

Magic. Must've been. First time he'd used it so purposefully though.

“What the hell!”

Shikamaru was shoved from behind, losing his invisible grip on the bar in the process. It clattered to the ground as he turned around. Dan looked incensed and...fearful. Shikamaru stilled. He knew that look. Recognized it as the same expression that the villagers used to cast towards Naruto. In this way, he also knew that nothing short of metaphorically saving the village a few times would prevent the confrontation that was coming.

“You’re one of  _ them _ ?” Dan spat furiously.

“Whom?” Shikamaru asked carefully.

“A-a magical - a  _ freak _ !” Dan backed away. A shout redirected Shikamaru’s attention, and he saw multiple adults from the orphanage rushing towards them and their flaming rocket wreckage. Excellent timing, as always.

“Dan! Are you alright?” one of them called. Shikamaru could never be bothered to remember their names. Dan didn’t answer.

“You! This is your fault,” another accused, pointing at Shikamaru. He slouched insolently.

“It was a joint effort,” he drawled. Actually, it had been Dan's idea. But he wasn't going to pour more gas on the fire.

“Is this true? Dan?” Another - relatively fairer - adult asked, turning to the silent child. Dan said nothing for a minute, and then his face twisted in distaste. Shikamaru mentally sighed. There went that friendship then (and he pretended that it didn't hurt just a little).

“As if I'd work with a freak like him,” Dan sneered. Shikamaru smirked and his eyes narrowed. The nearby adults instinctively retreated a step.

“For a genius, you sure are good at playing the spoiled child,” he said archly. Forget oil and fire, this brat needed the same lesson that the villagers had. Dan scowled - along with the orphanage staff.

“Mr. Nara!” one admonished. Shikamaru shrugged languidly.

“No use getting mad. I'll just leave so that my freakishness doesn't _ accidentally _ spread,” he said lazily. Without another word, he spun around and walked away.

He would later find out that Dan's parents had been murdered by a Death Eater. The similarities between this situation and Naruto's were almost humorous.

Dan was adopted shortly after the incident, and the two never spoke again.

…

* * *

 

**Present:**

“Oi! Get up already.”

Shikamaru was ripped from his slumber quite rudely. He opened his eyes to see Ron peering down at him. He groaned and turned back over. The  _ one  _ time he got to sleep in after actually sleeping through the night. These kids would kill him someday, he swore.

“What?” he asked grumpily when Ron jabbed him in the back. Thankfully he'd removed all of his equipment except for an emergency kunai the previous night.

“There's some people who want to talk to you,” Ron said, not sounding particularly happy about it. Shikamaru thought about it.

“Are they teachers?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then tell them that it's Sunday, and therefore it's my day off, so they can just fu-”

“It's a group of Slytherin first years,” Harry interjected. Shikamaru stopped. And sighed. He'd probably have to actually get up for this. Son of a bitch.

“Fine,” he said to his pillow. Fine. He sat up and changed into suitable clothes. He didn't know why they were supposed to wear robes even on the weekends, but every school had its illogical rules. It was probably more influenced by the culture of the people rather than any sensible dress code reasoning.

“Take me to your leader,” he muttered under his breath as he followed Ron and Harry out of the dorm.

“What?” Ron asked. Shikamaru shook his head.

“Nothing.” He occasionally missed the times when people would understand his references.

“Here he is. Are you bloody happy?” Ron said in a slightly irritated tone.

“Thrilled,” Blaise Zabini answered coolly. He eyed Harry and Ron with barely hidden distaste. “You can go now. We only want to talk to him.”

Before either Harry or Ron could protest out of some misguided gesture of protectiveness, Shikamaru stepped in. “Let's go,” he said. He picked a direction and started walking.

“Where are we going?” Theodore Nott drawled. Shikamaru shrugged.

“Somewhere else.” After a couple minutes, he abruptly halted and turned to face them. “Alright. What's important enough for you to go out of your way to talk to me on the weekend?”

The three Slytherins shared a glance, and then turned back to him with unreadable expressions.

“You see,” Zabini said slowly, “we don't like to be in debt. It's a pain, and personally I would rather just pay it off as soon as possible.”

“Point is, tell us what you want,” Nott interjected shortly. He seemed to be a boy of few words. Shikamaru eyed them speculatively. This was for when he stepped in during that confrontation between them and the Ravenclaws, then.

“I was going to ask for a favor whenever I needed one,” he began. They noticeably tensed. He guessed they didn't like people telling them what to do. “But I can think of something better for now,” he finished. They didn't relax, but their shoulders went down a notch.

“What?” Bulstrode asked warily. He let his mouth twitch into a slight smile.

“I want you three to gather some non-associates of Flint and Malfoy. I'll meet you and whoever you choose in the library tomorrow after classes. I'll let you know there,” he told them.

“Can't tell us now?” Nott looked supremely unimpressed. Shikamaru shrugged.

“I'm not giving a trio of Slytherins more information than I have to,” he said. It was both a backhanded compliment and a statement of caution. He didn't trust them, but also recognized what they were capable of. Judging by the considering gleams in their eyes, they knew.

“Say we don't show up,” Zabini said suddenly. “What then?”

Shikamaru had suspected he'd get the most trouble out of this boy. Nott just wasn't liable to give a shit, and Bulstrode was halfway decent. Zabini, however, was more Slytherin than anyone Shikamaru knew, save for maybe Professor Snape. Shikamaru's eyes fell to half mast, and his smile turned into a sharp smirk.

“Then I guess you owe me,” he said simply. Zabini paused, read the meanings there, and then nodded.

“Fine. We'll be there. But this had better be for a good reason, Nara,” he warned. He nodded at his companions, and they left. Shikamaru sighed. And now to gather the rest of the pieces. Who to hit first? Meh, he'd get the badgers. They seemed to be the most easygoing out of the four houses.

With a huff, he turned and started for the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron were probably working themselves up, and dragging Hermione and Neville into it as well. He'd just started on the last set of stairs, when he heard a voice.

“Mr. Nara.”

Shikamaru stopped and turned to see Professor Snape behind him. The man reminded him of an abnormally large bat - dark, imposing, and dangerous in close quarters.

“Professor?” he said.

“I take it that Mr. Potter didn't tell you?” Professor Snape asked, black eyes cold and unwelcoming.

“Tell me what, sir?”

“...You have a detention with me tonight for missing class. Be there at eight o'clock, and bring potions supplies,” the professor said coolly. Then, he turned on his heel and swept away, cloak billowing out behind him impressively.

Shikamaru would figure out how to do that some day. It was probably a charm.

…

* * *

 

He knocked on the heavy wooden door.

“Enter.”

Professor Snape didn't look up when he did so, but he did point to a desk near the front of the room.

“Sit.”

Shikamaru sat. The silence dragged on, and he was just wondering whether this was supposed to be some sort of power play, when the man stood up.

“You’re advanced abilities in class are signs of higher comprehension,” he began. Shikamaru wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a fact. “Tonight you will show me how far ahead you are capable of going. Prepare the most advanced potion you know. Feel free to use the stores in my cupboard if necessary.”

Shikamaru thought for a moment. He'd better go with Draught of Peace. A fifth year potion that was a bit of a pain to make. It was also one of the ones he had yet to tweak due to its precise measures and unfortunate consequences should it be brewed wrong. He gathered the ingredients and spent the next hour or so making it in silence. He turned his thoughts to the Slytherins, leaving half of his mind for the potion.

He had talked to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He... hadn't decided on Gryffindors yet. As great as his house was, they weren't the most subtle. All the other houses could be counted on for discretion. In battle terms, the houses represented the military forces like this: Gryffindors were like the front line men, the infantry, the foot soldiers; the Hufflepuffs were like the support with medicine, messengers, communications, and public outreach; the Ravenclaws the logistics, the strategists, the commanders behind the lines making sure everything went smoothly, the ones researching new tactics to ensure victory; and the Slytherins were like the shadow force, the assassins, the infiltrators, the scouts, the ones who went into enemy lines and brought them down from the inside. This all meant that Gryffindor would probably only need to be pointed in a direction to shoot, metaphorically of course.

But did that mean they should've been left out? Shikamaru rolled the problem around in his mind as he finished the potion. He handed it in, perfect like expected. He didn't know. Obviously it would've been advantageous to have some housemates in the meeting, but whom?

His thoughts were interrupted by Snape.

“So, Mr. Nara. What caused your collapse in class?” the man asked.

Shikamaru thought for a very fast moment on what to say. He obviously couldn't just come out and say that Goyle had managed to replicate the sound of a tailed beast almost perfectly. He didn't know how, but the boy was worse than Neville at potion making. For all of his issues, at least Neville didn't create  _ life  _ with his potions. Goyle's potion had startled him enough to let the memories slip through, and then it had devolved into chaos - in his mind anyway - from there. His efforts of keeping his flashback from overwhelming him, restraining his magic and other instincts, and ensuring Neville remained calm had all mixed together and had caused his mind to give up and his body to follow suit. Thus proving that Goyle's powers of inadequacy were simply beyond comprehension.

But Snape was waiting not-so patiently.

“I had a flashback, sir,” he said simply. Snape raised an eyebrow.

“I know that. I'm not dull,” he said with a sneer. “But what would you have a flashback  _ of _ ?”

Well, Shikamaru thought that was a personal question he had no business asking, 'concerned’ professor or not. Besides. What was he supposed to say?  _ Sorry, sir, my memories of an enormous being made of a foreign energy flooded my mind before I could lock them down because of your student’s alarming ability to create something living out of a potion. And did I mention that these memories are from a different life? _

Ha. No.

“Goyle's... unorthodox-” and by that he meant completely ridiculous “-potion brought up a flashback of…” Hm. Maybe he'd start a different way. “You ever been in a war, sir?”

Snape's eyes sharpened. “Once,” he replied shortly.  _ And once was enough _ , went unsaid. Shikamaru let his expression lose the regular apathetic of its norm, leaving him looking decades older. Leaving him looking like the war veteran he was. Snape's eyes narrowed, visibly trying to fit the pieces together.

“Yeah. That's about what it brought up for me,” Shikamaru said quietly. He turned and walked out without being dismissed.

He was done answering questions that his professor hadn't earned the answers to.

…

* * *

 

“Hurry up, Shikamaru! We're going to be late!” Ron hollered up the stairs. Shikamaru sighed irritably and tied his holster on. He exited the room and found the redhead anxiously shifting on his feet. Hermione and Neville also stood beside him, but both looked much calmer.

“Does it really matter if we get there five minutes late?” Shikamaru questioned, half teasing. “All we'd miss is the handshake and maybe a goal or two.”

Ron looked scandalized. He didn't even deign to answer. He just marched out of the common room, duty as a friend apparently completed.

“You shouldn't wind him up so much,” Hermione whispered as they followed at a more sedate pace. Shikamaru tossed her a smirk.

“But he makes it so easy,” he said. She withheld a smile and shook her head. Despite Ron's complaints, they arrived at the match with plenty of time to spare. And by that, Shikamaru had literally just sat down when Madame Hooch blew her whistle.

“And they're OFF!” Lee Jordan exclaimed into the microphone. “Gryffindor takes the Quaffle!”

Shikamaru would have spent this game like any other. Completely ignoring the going-ons while his brain summoned a few other things to think about. He would have spent the entire time in a haze of both bored apathy and mind-melting thought trains except-

Harry's broom was no longer under his control, and Shikamaru had seen where it had come from.

“Go knock over Quirrell,” he said to Hermione. She was the best bet. Ron's hair was too noticeable, and Neville would probably knock over the wrong person. She gave him a startled look even as Harry's broom started to roll over.

“What? But, Snape-” she began. So she had noticed. Good girl. But it was the wrong target.

“Trust me. I'll explain after.” Hell, she could've knocked them both over. As long as she managed to fit Quirrell in there somehow, he didn't care. And he now had a test subject for his group this afternoon.

Right after he got Harry off of that damned vehicle of death, of course.  **(1)**

…

* * *

 

Harry was fine. Shaken and elated simultaneously, but fine. Good, because they had other things to focus on.

“Shikamaru, why did you have me go after Quirrell? It was Snape - I know cursing signs. He was showing all of them! He wasn't blinking, he was muttering under his breath - and his wand was out!” Hermione ignored Hagrid's sputters of surprise and mild indignation. So did Shikamaru.

“Yes, Hermione, I'm aware. But those are signs of  _ counter _ cursing as well. Besides, didn't you see Quirrell? He was doing the same thing. Only difference is, when you interrupted him, Harry's broom stopped spinning,” he said patiently. Her frown deepened in thought and she started to pace.

“But why would Quirrell go after Harry?” Ron asked from where Fang was drooling on his lap. “Everyone knows it's Snape who hates him.”

“Exactly,” Shikamaru said, at the same time that Hermione's eyes widened in realization. It was nice to have another smart friend around.

“Oh,” she breathed. “But - that's _ genius _ if it's true.”

“No one would suspect,” he agreed.

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Ron asked dryly.

“If you were to target someone, how would you do it? Not by making yourself a suspect. Why bother when there's already one lying around?” Shikamaru said, slouching further in his seat.  _ And Snape and probably Dumbledore know - God knows who else. This goes deep. But why Harry? _

It wasn't personal, he was decently sure. Quirrell might have been a good actor, but one couldn't hide hate. At least, not from a master shogi player/strategist that read people on a daily basis as a survival habit. Quirrell was indifferent at best, and certainly not openly antagonistic like Snape. So what was his game?

He tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Ron call Quirrell a slimey bastard.

“Not that I don't agree, but what brought this on?” he asked mildly.

“Hagrid mentioned that Quirrell’s been acting strange since he got back from his expeditions,” said Harry, who’d been surprisingly quiet. Shikamaru turned to Hagrid pensively. The tall man unconsciously straightened under the scrutiny.

“Alright.” He had decided. “Today probably won’t be an isolated incident, which means we need to stop Quirrell before he does permanent damage. Harry was lucky that Snape was there and that Quirrell either can’t plan well, or just wasn’t trying that hard today.”

“Well, the teachers-” Hermione started hesitantly.

Ron cut in impatiently, “The teachers clearly know that something is going on. Why else would Snape interfere like that? I think we all know he’d be pretty happy if Harry had a ‘Quidditch accident’, but someone told him to stop it if something suspicious happened. Besides that though, they aren’t actively doing anything to stop it. Which is why we should do something.” He turned to Shikamaru. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

Shikamaru’s lips quirked up. “Thanks for stealing my thunder, Ron,” he said dryly. The redhead crossed his arms and frowned.

“You were too slow.” Ah, the patience of youth.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes and turned to Hagrid. “Can we use your place as a base of sorts? You know everything we know.” Probably more than, actually. The man puffed his chest out proudly.

“O’ course!” Then he paused uncertainly and added, “Er, well, tha’ is if you promise ter be careful.”

“Between my propensity for analysis and Ron’s ability to strategize decently, I think we’ll work something out that won’t be too dangerous,” Shikamaru said a little wryly. He’d helped plan a war on multiple fronts. Investigating a clear amateur assassin in a school environment with teachers just around the corner and a seemingly omniscient headmaster would be cake. “It’s strictly investigation anyways.” At least, that the Idiot Trio would know about. He’d personally go about it differently with the meeting this afternoon. Which they  _ wouldn’t _ know about.

His indifferent demeanor vanished suddenly, and he looked at his friends seriously. They looked back, surprised at the change. He had to admit that he didn’t often show this side of himself around them. He’d been lax since he got here. Clearly he’d need to do better.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it right. That means next to no actual risks. All moves will be planned ahead, and they will have backups. We’ll need to get some outside help, and if anything starts to go wrong we tell a professor. Agreed?” he said. It wasn’t really a question. It was non-negotiable. Whatever Quirrell was up to wasn’t worth their safety. Harry would be fine in a school this big. The portraits could talk, and there were students everywhere.

“Alright,” Ron agreed a tad reluctantly.

“Good. Ron, you can help me strategize. Hermione, the teachers mostly love you, so you can be the one to subtly get information from them. Harry...try not to be caught alone. Go places with company - it doesn’t have to be one of us either. Someone from Gryffindor or a professor would be best, if you can,” Shikamaru listed. Ron looked surprised.

“Really? I get to help strategize?” he asked. Shikamaru nodded.

“You have a decent grasp on advanced chess plays. Those can be applied to real life with some work,” he explained. He asked Hagrid for some parchment and a quill. He’d need to write things down for this. Especially if the meeting this afternoon went the way he’d planned

“W-wait! Can’t I say something about this?” Harry burst in, looking a little incensed.

“No,” Shikamaru said without looking up. Ron snickered and Hermione sighed. Shikamaru continued to write and added plainly, “You’d tell us not to risk it and I already have effort invested, so I don’t want to hear it.”

Ron guffawed and Hermione made a cut-off sound of amusement. Shikamaru raised his eyes to see Harry looking mildly offended. He bit back a grin.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Harry protested. “I was just going to ask if I could do something more than ‘stay safe’.”

“Sure you were,” Ron sniggered.

“We’re trying to keep you out of trouble,” Shikamaru said with a sigh. “For now laying low is best. I’ll probably come up with something for you later on. It depends on what Quirrell does and what we find out.”

“So where do we start?” Hermione interjected, casting a sideways glance at Harry’s disappointed and slightly mutinous expression.

“Research,” Shikamaru said, standing up and looking down at his shorthanded list of things that had jumped to his mind. “We should find out as much as we can about Quirrell.”

“Any idea where can begin, Hagrid?” Hermione turned to their silent spectator. He scratched his beard thoughtfully.

“Well, Professor Quirrell sort o’ disappeared off the face o’ the earth before he accepted the job at Hogwarts. And when he came back, he wasn’ really the same,” he said. “I dunno what happened to ‘im, but he wasn’ the man that left.”

“Where did he travel?” Shikamaru asked, at the same time that Harry said, “How was he different?”

“Professor Quirrell traveled ‘round the world. He went and found a bit o’ trouble in Southeastern Europe. I reckon he didn’ know what he was doin’. Was the first time he got hands-on experience, see, and I don’ think he was prepared for what his craft offered. As for how he changed - well, from what little I knew o’ him back then, Professor Quirrell was quiet but didn’ stutter none when he talked. He was an ambitious man at tha’ time. Wanted ter know everything there was to know about whatever caught his interest. Now he won’t even crack open a book,” Hagrid said. “S’almost like he’s a different person now.”

“Has anyone checked to see if he’s an imposter?” Hermione asked tentatively. Hagrid waved a large hand dismissively.

“Nah. Professor Dumbledore woulda’ seen through any disguise,” he assured them. That was enough for her, Ron, and Harry, but Shikamaru had long since learned not to take anything at face value. Not to say that he didn’t trust the headmaster but...well, no, he didn’t really trust him. In his defense, he usually didn’t trust people until meeting them for the first time. Besides, he’d read all about the man before coming to Hogwarts. While he had many honors and titles, Shikamaru couldn’t dismiss his brief friendship and partnership with Gellert Grindelwald, one of the most dangerous Dark Wizards in all of wizarding history.

“We should try and find out what happened during his travels,” Ron suggested.

“But how?” Harry frowned. “It’s not like wizards have an international information system.”

“I’ll see if I can get some newspapers from where we know he went,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be wizard news. Muggles report about strange things even if they don’t understand them.”

“And I’ll get some outside help,” Shikamaru concluded. He surveyed their excited expressions and felt a spike of pride in spite of the headache this was gearing up to be.

Ah, well, what was life without a little pain?

…

* * *

 

“Where’s your trio of followers?”

These were the first words to greet Shikamaru when he stepped into the library with Neville and Percy Weasley in tow. From three very clearly separated tables, members from the other three houses looked over at him. Blaise, the one who had spoken, sat with Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass and  Tracey Davis. Ernie Macmillan sat with his housemates Susan Bones and Cedric Diggory, talking quietly amongst themselves. They were the only ones to greet Shikamaru in an amicable manner. At the last table sat Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Marcus Belby.

“You’re here at last!” Ernie said in relief. “Now, perhaps you can explain what this is about? You weren’t too clear with your initial explanation.”

“My question first, Macmillan,” Blaise drawled. He aimed a pointed look in Shikamaru’s direction. “Where’s the Golden Trio?”

(Little did Shikamaru know that this name would catch on, otherwise he would have tried his hardest to stop such a ridiculous epithet from spreading.)

“They won’t be coming,” he said easily. “They don’t know about this meeting.” Blaise raised his eyebrows with mockingly polite incredulity.

“So you can be separated from your people,” Nott cut in condescendingly, “fascinating. Care to explain why we're here?”

“On the surface, and with the approval of the heads of houses and Professor Dumbledore, this is an inter-house study group. The first in school history, actually.” Shikamaru paused as several people made their displeasure known. They graciously allowed for him to finish. “In reality though, we might study later, but for now we'll actually be an information group. Our subject is why Professor Quirrell is so suspicious. Therefore, we'll be researching him a bit.”

“Is that it?” Nott asked with a sneer. “If we wanted to look into shady professors, we could do that on our own time.” He stood up.

“Sit  _ down _ , Nott,” Shikamaru said flatly. “I'm not done.” Nott froze and seemed to internally debate. A nod from Blaise had him slowly sitting again. “In addition to research, we'll be schooling ourselves on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Quirrell isn't teaching us what we need to know. His class period is effectively a waste of time.”

“That's all very well and good,” Ernie Macmillan interjected, “but we have different years here. Surely first years aren't on the level of, say, fourth years.” He nodded at Percy.

“Maybe Hufflepuffs aren't,” Blaise said smoothly. “In Slytherin house, however, we pride ourselves on furthering our knowledge.”

“Interesting, I thought they prided themselves on just about everything,” Susan Bones said mildly. He smirked at her.

“We have a lot of talents, love,” he leered. She rolled her eyes.

“Ernie, you're correct about the different levels,” Shikamaru acknowledged, ignoring the byplay. He didn't want anything to do with it; really, he was just here to create what he planned to be a future information hub. He had not signed on to be a diplomat between the houses. That was shaping up to be an endless and painful headache. “But the few older years I've talked to say that Quirrell might as well be holding them back a year for the information he gives them. Besides, I needed some older, more responsible students here in order for the professors to agree. Percy is a Prefect, and Diggory is the school's actual Golden Boy.”

His mouth quirked up in amusement at that. People tended to accuse Harry of being the idol and popularity focus, but Cedric Diggory was far more well-liked and well-known than Harry. Not surprising, really. Cedric came off as a bit more... charismatic, while Harry tended to be rather socially awkward at times.

“Besides. With this inter-house study group, the older years will have access to resources they didn't have before,” he continued. He let them think it over. “Aside from the Slytherins, all of you knew why you were coming here. And I didn't tell you-” here he directed his eyes to the Snakes “-because I wanted you to actually show up.”

They seemed to grudgingly respect this.

“You're free to go, if you want, but this covers the favor you owe me,” he concluded. They held a silent conversation. While they did that, Diggory looked curiously at Percy.

“I'm surprised you're here,” he confessed. “I thought you wouldn't like investigating a teacher like this.”

Percy seemed to puff up. “Yes, well, if there is a professor harming student education, it is the duty of us Prefects - and of anyone in charge - to see that such actions are ended,” he said a little haughtily. Shikamaru bit back an amused huff at Diggory’s bemused but unoffended expression. At least he had one person who didn't seem to mind Percy’s eccentricities.

“Alright, Nara,” Blaise said suddenly, “we'll play your game. But after this, we're through, deal? We help you catch Quirrell, and we don't owe you. Any of us.”

Shikamaru let his amusement show with a slouch and an indolent smirk. “Sure. As you say,” he agreed. Blaise’s expression turned calculating.

“Excellent. Where do we start, then?” he asked. Shikamaru was a bit thrown by the sudden shift in mood, but didn't let it distract him.

“I thought we'd begin with…”

…

* * *

 

Shikamaru surveyed his “study group” and felt a flare of pride somewhere deep inside. The Slytherin’s were actually deigning to interact with the other houses, handing off valuable information like it was nothing. The Ravenclaws were interspersed throughout the tables, using their keen intellects to problem-solve and troubleshoot. The Hufflepuffs kept everything moving smoothly with impressive diplomacy. Diggory in particular helped keep conflicts from arising.

And the Gryffindors were holding their own. Percy managed to hold a modicum of respect that clearly pleased him, and Neville hung out with the nicer members - something Shikamaru had done on purpose to get his friend’s abysmal self-esteem to acceptable levels. And Shikamaru himself was overseeing the entire thing. He didn’t know when he’d tell Ron, Harry, and Hermione, but he could deal with that later. For now, it was enough to see progress.

* * *

 

**Ninjutsu (Techniques):**

**Kage Bunshin no Jutsu (Shadow Clone technique):** **Creates copies of user, splits chakra in half for each clone, and transmits memories of clone to user after it dispels.  B-rank, hand seals are Clone seal or Tiger seal. (Mentioned).**

* * *

 

**(1): Shikamaru doesn't like flying or anything associated with it. Ha.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author-san: It's done! *Throws up hands in relief* Hallelujah!
> 
> Editor-san: Yes, yes. Well done. Now, back to work! We have three stories and a few dozen ideas to finish! *Cracks whip threateningly*
> 
> Author-san: *Cowers* Yes, you're quite right. As always.
> 
> Please comment?


	6. Just a Lot Too Much

**A Shadow in Wizard’s Robes Chapter 6: Just A Lot Too Much**

**By: AngelicSilverWolf**

_ 'The power of one, if fearless and focused, is formidable, but the power of many working together is better.’ – Gloria Macapagal Arroyo _

  
  


**Age 8: Three years before Hogwarts**

Shikamaru inspected the volumes before him. Not really what he was looking for, but he supposed that he would be hard-pressed to find what he wanted in a third-hand store. It wasn't like he couldn't take these concepts and apply them to what he actually wanted to learn...but he just didn't want to. And so, laziness struck again.

“Those books aren't very reliable, you know,” a voice said from behind him. Shikamaru turned, suppressing a violent reaction that would have gone over  _ very  _ badly, and saw none other than Remus Lupin looking at him.

“Mr. Lupin,” he greeted, “what a surprise to see you here.” Though, considering that Diagon Alley appeared to be the only magical shopping complex in the area, maybe it shouldn't have been. Lupin smiled slightly at him.

“Just Lupin is fine,” he said. “Or even Remus.” Shikamaru inclined his head. Lupin studied him for a moment, and then said, “I'm surprised you still remember me. It's been two years since our very brief meeting.”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Could say the same about you. As for me... I've got a perfect memory, and you're one of the less troublesome adults that I've met in the past eight years. Ergo, I remember you.” By less troublesome, he meant that Lupin wasn't a complete idiot that let personal prejudices get in the way of treating a person with common courtesy. Maybe Lupin understood that for his smile faded slightly.

“That is unfortunate,” he said. Then, he brightened again. “Tell me, why are you looking at these books? I know many better ways to have people lose all of their hair than a suspicious spell like this.” He gestured at the book Shikamaru was holding, which did indeed detail a complicated spell to rid a person of all their body hair.

Shikamaru scratched the back of his head. “Ah. No, I was checking out the Transfiguration involved to see if I could apply the concepts elsewhere. Not necessarily...baldness,” he admitted. More conveniently - turning it into a way of disguise. Lupin’s expression shifted in realization. 

“Perhaps, then,  I was too soon to assume that there was a budding prankster in you,” he said with a faint smile. Shikamaru tilted his head.

“Not necessarily.” He left it at that. Lupin's smile turned a bit conspiratorial.

“I see.” He was silent for a minute, and then- “Take a walk with me. We can get lunch. I'll wait if you want the books.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “Don't have the money.” And if he did, he wouldn't spend it on books like these. Well. Technically he had the money, but it wasn't in the budget for the foreseeable future (five years or so).

Lupin nodded like he understood the monetary problems of an eight-year-old, and they left the store. As they walked in comfortable silence, Shikamaru remembered a thought he'd had two years ago - that Lupin was just an incredibly easy person to be around. It was remarkable how relaxed Shikamaru found himself.

“Tell me how you're doing,” Lupin said, leading the way to a small restaurant. “What's new?”

“I'll spare you two years worth of details,” Shikamaru said wryly. At Lupin’s chuckle, he considered how to summarize the past two years. Where to start… “Well, I got a therapist,” he said casually.

Somewhat disconcertingly, Lupin flipped from laid-back amusement to intense concern. He seemed to understand the job description of a therapist. It was a first, certainly.

“Did something happen?” Lupin asked. Why he had such concern for a near stranger - they had met twice, including now - was over Shikamaru’s head, but he did... appreciate it a bit. 

“Not really. But it's been building for awhile,” he said. As in, the last eight years of his life. “They-” being the orphanage adults “want a reason to pack me off to an asylum.” Or, ‘A special place for special people,’ in the words of a particularly spiteful woman.

Lupin frowned.

"That's not right," he said. "They shouldn't be able to do that." Shikamaru shrugged philosophically.

"It is what it is. I've read up on wizarding rules and regulations, and children don't have a whole lot of rights; abuse is ignored and can be hidden easily with magic.  **(1)** I just have a few paranoid adults to deal with," he said. Lupin frown deepened slightly.

"You still shouldn't have to lie. Is there any way to prove that you’re mentally sound?" he insisted. Shikamaru let a sigh escape. He wished. How he missed the simple days, when he’d just had Temari, Shikadai, and Naruto to worry about.

But anyway.

It probably said something that he considered the days spent with Konoha’s Most Unpredictable Ninja to be ‘simple’.

"If it were that easy, I would have done it long ago. They don't like me and so they want to prove me clinically insane. They just want to push me off onto an asylum or something," he said simply.

"Is it that bad?" Lupin asked quietly. Shikamaru gave him a startled - for him - glance.

"Not really. They aren't physical or anything; they just...prefer to pretend that I don't exist. They also ward other kids away from me, but since most of the other kids there are brainless anyway, I try not to interact with them. Stupidity is contagious. The situation itself isn't too bad; it's just that the therapist gets on my nerves every time he visits - which is about three times a week. I think the number is actually increasing," Shikamaru mused. Well, actually, now that he thought about it, he saw how that could be alarming to someone who didn’t know him.

"Neglect is still a form of abuse," Lupin said. Shikamaru stopped walking. Lupin continued for a few steps, checked himself, and stopped. He turned around.

Processing.

Error.

"They aren't abusing me," Shikamaru denied. Lupin said nothing. "Really. I'm fine. I don't care what they do so long as they give me food." Which, he knew, was not nearly enough for a growing child. “They house me," Shikamaru continued methodically, heedless of the sympathetic expression growing on Lupin's face. Well, in the loosest sense of the word they did. "They clothe me," Shikamaru said trying to retain his nonchalant attitude as the dots connected. By the understanding look in Lupin's eyes, he wasn’t succeeding in being casual.

"It's not..." he trailed off. He took a deep, even breath - and then another two in rapid succession.

_ Remember - count to ten, and then backward, and repeat until you’re calm, _ a voice that sounded eerily like Temari’s advised.

So, he stopped and forced his breathing to calm, counting mentally just like he’d been instructed. He reached a relative equilibrium and pulled his neutral expression back on, but he didn't like how it felt forced. This really shouldn't be upsetting him so much. If anything, he should have been annoyed that he hadn’t made the connection sooner. But, he wasn’t.

Logically. he knew that his 'caretakers' hadn't been treating him really great. He also knew the signs of abuse. Somehow, he had never really put the two together. A hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to look up. Lupin was looking down at him with slight concern. Shikamaru knew what he would see:

slanted brown eyes that were blown wide at the pupil, struggling to retain their uncaring appearance, a paler complexion than usual, and a clenched jaw. Why was he reacting so strongly to this? He knew what abuse was, and sure, he should have identified it, but it wasn't actually that big of a shock now that he had processed it. The orphanage adults treated him like dirt, end of story. Or, well, it should have been.

"I apologize," Lupin said quietly. "I didn't mean to upset you." Shikamaru pulled away. No further sign of being emotional disturbance save for unsteady breathing and a changed face pallor - good.

"I'm not upset," he muttered, inwardly wincing at the obvious lie. Ino would have had his ass. Lupin didn't call him out on it. "I should have seen it. I'm an idiot."

"Don't say that," Lupin said sternly. "Many children don't know about or don't want to acknowledge any abuse happening to them."

"No offense to normal people, but I’m a bit more intelligent than them," Shikamaru said in a poor parody of his normal drawling tone. "I should have guessed or something. I've seen abuse in action, both physical and emotional. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner." 

Images of a hurt and lonely Naruto filled his mind. Did Shikamaru look that sad now? So broken and...needy? Was that what Lupin was seeing? The thought made him rebel somewhat. He was many things, cowardly, smart, sarcastic - but needy? In denial? He was logical enough to know when something was true or not. Or, he had thought he was.

"Stop it. You're treating yourself like an adult. You may be more intelligent than most, but you're still young," Lupin told him firmly, ignoring the tone with apparent ease. Shikamaru shook his head.

If it were only that easy. He  _ was  _ an adult. An adult in a child's body, albeit, but still.

"Guess I need that therapy after all," he said wryly, absently noticing Lupin stiffen.

Two hands landed on Shikamaru's shoulders, quite firmly this time.

"Shikamaru, look at me." Lupin's tone was hard and unforgiving. Shikamaru lifted his gaze reluctantly, feeling remarkably like the child he currently was. "This is  _ not  _ your fault. Do you understand me?" Lupin asked. Shikamaru started to protest - he’d been joking. Mostly. "No. Hear me quite clearly; you are in no way, shape, or form, at fault for not seeing this situation for how it is. And if you do need a therapist, it is for emotional trauma and nothing more. Are we clear?"

Shikamaru found striking similarities between Lupin and a few shinobi he knew. Lupin would be a good ninja. He nodded slowly. Lupin sighed.

"You don't believe me," he said with mild resignation. "That's fine - you're still young. Just don't wallow in self-loathing or something equally as destructive." Shikamaru nodded again. Hell, Lupin would make a good therapist - better than that one at the orphanage. Not like that was saying much. "I'll take you back if you want," Lupin told him. Lunch was off the table then.

"I’ll be fine," Shikamaru replied. Lupin gave him a searching look and probably noticed his desire to be alone with his thoughts. 

"Alright," he agreed. Shikamaru didn’t sigh in relief. It was a near thing. "Here, I’ll give you my current address." Lupin whipped out a slip of paper and jotted something down, and then he handed it to Shikamaru. "The telephone number is on there as well. Call for  _ anything _ . Okay?"

Shikamaru nodded. "Thanks," he said sincerely. Lupin hesitated and then settled for awkwardly squeezing the Shikamaru’s shoulder.

"I'll see you around," he said. Shikamaru waved goodbye and then turned to start the long way back to the orphanage where he had an appointment with a certain therapist to look forward to.

Maybe he could skive off, just this once. He'd had enough of talking about his emotions for one day. **(2)**

…

**Present Day:**

"Harry is the King."

In chess terminology, anyway. Ron's eyes narrowed in thought.

"He needs to be kept safe at all costs, otherwise this whole thing is useless," he agreed. "Guess that makes you the Queen, Shikamaru." The ‘Queen’ in question raised his eyebrow. Ron lifted his hands in a self-deprecating gesture. "I may be halfway decent at chess, but you're a genius at strategies that don't just include where to move which Pawn. Besides, I always fancied myself as a bit of a Knight," Ron admitted with a somewhat sheepish grin. Shikamaru rolled his eyes. 

_ Children. _

"Continuing down this line of thinking then, Hermione is our Rook. Great for 'endgame' and can access the entire battlefield. She has knowledge of all sorts of subjects," Shikamaru mused. "If I'm getting the piece meanings right."

"You're good. Is everyone else a Pawn then?" Ron asked curiously.

"Unless you want to add more people to the equation. The more people we include in this, the more complicated it becomes," Shikamaru warned. "Snape we can figure out if he agrees to help us."

"But we also gain more allies and therefore more manpower," Ron reasoned. Shikamaru shook his head.

"For covert stuff like this, you want as few people as possible to know everything. We can have some people that just have bits and pieces of the situation, but the fewer people who know the whole truth the better - for them and us. If we get caught, there won't be as much collateral damage, and our allies can truthfully say they knew next to nothing about our true objectives. Also, there’s less chance of a leak with fewer people in the inner circle," Shikamaru said, sinking into strategic mode. Ron nodded after considering it. Excellent. One step down out of...entirely too many.

Sometimes, Shikamaru just wanted to take a nap. For eternity.

"Makes sense," Ron said. 

Suddenly, they heard the rush of footsteps, and then Hermione sank down next to Ron, breathless and flushed. She set down the stack of books she carried in her arms.

"So, I've been combing over the Daily Prophet articles for anything suspicious, and the only thing worth noting was a break-in at Gringotts on July thirty-first where nothing was actually stolen," she said so quickly the other two almost couldn't understand her. Ron snapped his fingers.

"I remember reading about that! Harry told us about it. Remember, Shikamaru?" he asked, turning to his friend. Shikamaru shook his head

"No, I don’t. I must have missed that conversation,” he said somewhat dryly. Ron adopted a sheepish expression.

"Oh, yeah. I think it was when you went to go ‘talk’ to Malfoy,” he admitted. 

"I don’t know why you’re saying it like that. It was just a talk," Shikamaru said. Again. For, was it, the...fifth time, now? Ron shot him a disbelieving glance.

"Right," Ron drawled. “We’ll go with that.” Brat. Shikamaru probably should have cut down on his sarcasm - he hadn’t known it was contagious. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Back to the subject," she said meaningfully. Right. That. Before they could actually return to the subject, Harry strode in, sweaty and tired from Quidditch practice.

"What subject are we on?" he asked. Hermione jumped but aimed a smile at the new arrival.

"Ron was just going to tell us about the break-in at Gringotts that you two have kept hidden this  _ entire time _ ," Hermione said, smile turning dangerous. The boys sans Shikamaru withheld shudders. Barely

"Right, about that," Ron said hastily. In short order, he relayed the article, with Harry chiming in with details from his trip to Gringotts with Hagrid.

"Harry, do you know what the dog is guarding then?" Hermione asked when they finished. Harry slowly shook his head and sat down.

"Not really. Hagrid was being extremely secretive about it. I just know that it was small and wrapped in cloth," he said. Hermione's face fell slightly, and she worked the end of her quill feather into her mouth.

"Well, we can always  _ ask  _ Hagrid," she said unenthusiastically.

"I don't know about that, Hermione," Harry said doubtfully. "I know he agreed to let us into his house for a base, but he’s really loyal to Dumbledore - I don’t know if he’d tell us without next to no doubt that it’s what Quirrell is after. The other staff probably know, but I can't see them giving us any hints. I bet Snape wouldn't tell us anything even if we convinced him to let us help. How's that going, by the way?" he asked Shikamaru.

"It isn't. I haven't had a chance to speak to him yet. I've been too busy trying to secure my resources and find something on Quirrell first. I'm trying to keep our plans broad in order to make some margin for error, but we need  _ something  _ if we want Snape to listen to us and not just brush us off immediately," Shikamaru said. He’d shared that he planned to ask Snape for some guidance, at least, if not outright help, with investigating Quirrell. Snape would probably learn from his Slytherins in Shikamaru’s research group anyway.

"What have you come up with so far?" Harry asked curiously.

"Not much," Shikamaru said somewhat ruefully. "The thing about plans is that they need information, which we don't have much of. If I knew what the school was guarding I could probably put something reasonable together, but as it is…" he trailed off. The others nodded.

"I do have an outline at least. First and foremost is keeping Harry safe, at all costs. If we have to tell a dozen more people to do it, than, fine, whatever. Second is finding out what this school is guarding; that way we can cross off the probable target. I'd like to have Snape in on it pretty soon, but it isn't necessary. The third is to try and get the help of multiple professors so that we can either catch Quirrell in the act or stop him before he makes his move. If all else fails...I can get into the Restricted Section of the library at night or something. We'll have to make it up as we go," Shikamaru admitted.

"Well, at least we can be more flexible that way," Ron said.

"Right. So, finding out what in Merlin's name is in this castle. To Hagrid then," Hermione said, clapping her hands. Harry nodded pensively.

"We can go down tomorrow after class to have a chat with him. If he won't tell us directly, we can get at least a hint from him," he said thoughtfully. Shikamaru grinned loftily.

"Look at you all becoming amateur strategists of your own," he said. They looked at him. "S’probably my influence.” They looked at each other and shook their heads together.

"Nope. Sorry, the only influence on us that you have is making us lazier," Harry said with a grin.

"Of course,  _ I  _ am the one that makes everyone smarter with my impressively strategic brain," Ron said smugly. Hermione shook her head in mock despair.

"With all of these geniuses around, I guess my brains won't be needed anymore," she sighed. There was a beat of silence before the trio burst out laughing and Shikamaru's grin grew.

"What's so funny?" a voice asked from behind him. He resisted the urge of the violent variety - people had to stop startling him. Didn’t they know the dangers of surprising people? Maybe if he told them about his weapons... 

They all looked and saw the Weasley twins glancing down at them.

"Sorry," Hermione said with twitching lips. "Only intelligent people are allowed here."

"Oh. So, why are Harry and Ron here?" George asked innocently.

"Oi!" the aforementioned two exclaimed indignantly.

"Not so great minds think alike," Fred said sagely. He and George grinned while the other two spluttered. "Anyway, as amusing as it is to see Hare-Bear and Ronniekins show their staggering resemblance to a pair of tomatoes, we were hoping to borrow Shika over here for a moment."

"You don't let us call you 'Shika'," Ron complained. Shikamaru raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"You never asked," he deadpanned. He stood and followed the twins to a nearby corner.

"What's up?" he asked.

"A prank," Fred said. Shikamaru manfully resisted the urge to groan. He sighed instead.

"Why me?" he asked.

"You tend to cover bases. We just plan an escape route, not a deflection plan," George explained.

"Yeah. When pranks happen, people automatically think, 'It must be the two genius Gryffindor twins,'" Fred agreed.

"They actually probably think something more along the lines of 'Damn those two troublemaking Weasleys'," Shikamaru corrected. The two waved their hands dismissively.

"Whatever. We won't argue the details with you," George said.

"Anyway, we wanted to do an enormous prank," Fred continued.

"Something that would go down in history," George said with a nod.

"And why do you need my help specifically?" Shikamaru asked slowly.

"Well, you see, we've never done something so widespread and ambitious before. Your brilliant brain - combined with our less brilliant but still awe-inspiring minds - can surely come up with a way to pull off what we're planning. This would be a little send-off before the holidays, to give you a time frame," Fred said.

"How large are we talking?" Shikamaru asked warily. Identical evil grins appeared.

"Oh...how about the entire school?" Fred tried. "Does that sound good, brother of mine?"

"Very good," George agreed with a serious nod. Shikamaru's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Does that happen to include the professors?" he asked. Regret, what a familiar friend, was slowly creeping into his mind.

"Of course! Wouldn't want them to feel left out," Fred said. Shikamaru sighed again.

Because  _ nothing  _ could  _ possibly  _ go wrong with this idea.

“I could see the school, but the professors? You do know that includes Snape, right?" he asked. Just to be sure.

"Yes. He will just have to participate, kicking and screaming if he must," George said.

"I was visualizing with many hexes and curses," Shikamaru muttered, the little kernel of hope dying a fiery and explosive death.

"Now, now, Shika," Fred said sternly, "being pessimistic about this won't help anything."

"Besides, if we do get caught, you have our full permission to - what do the muggles say? 'Throw us under the bus'," George assured him. Shikamaru huffed.

"I guess I'll just have to make sure we don't get caught; there's no way in hell I'd do that," he said. All for one and one for all, right? The things he did for his friends. "Tell me what the prank is so that I can start planning."

The twins beamed.

"We were thinking that the houses of this school need to get in touch with their mascots. After all, those fine animals represent the students!" George said.

"Wait," Shikamaru said, backtracking swiftly. "No, you can't possibly think...that's probably illegal and more than likely impossible."

"Afraid not, my friend. We've done research. We'll have Lee help us as well if it makes you feel better," Fred said with a grin. It didn’t. 

Shikamaru was pretty sure these two were going to get him arrested one day, ‘research’ or not.

"It really doesn't," he informed them.

Why not add another thing to his already sky-high pile of plans, schemes, thought-tangents, and all around stress? He wanted to call for a time-out from the universe, but he knew he wasn’t going to get it.

He was torn between weariness from sleep deprivation (pesky thing, insomnia, until it turned hazardous to the health) and nightmares when he could snatch a few hours of the former, worry for the safety of the Idiot Trio (aptly named, in his personal opinion), worry that investigating would bring more danger to them, or that maybe he wasn't acting soon enough, stress from school assignments (which were only growing in number and difficulty, unfortunately; it was like professors had no lives outside of assigning homework...), worry that he wasn't training enough and the desire to find time to do so, but the thought that it should honestly be the last thing on his mind plagued him (but it had been drilled into him that training was  _ life  _ and without it came  _ death _ , and hell if he could get rid of a lifetime’s worth of teachings), strain from trying to come up with a way to convince Snape  _ not  _ to blow them off, worry that the Slytherins would go back on their word (history supported him there), stress that someone would discover what they were doing before they could do anything at all, and now he had this to add to the frankly alarmingly large list of things already crowding his mind.

Unfortunately, because of his increased mental and physical fatigue, his chakra reserves were lower than usual, which crossed off using a few Shadow Clones to help shorten the list of stuff he needed to do, and he couldn't really pile more of his workload onto someone else since Harry was struggling with Quidditch practice and homework, Hermione studied almost as much as he did, and Ron was having difficulties with his classes alone. Fred and George weren't on the table at all since they weren't aware of the fact that Shikamaru was helping foil whatever evil plans Quirrell had, and any adults wouldn't even bear considering in the way of lightening his load.

How he got into these messes, he never knew. It was funny; people said he was lazy, but Temari called him a workaholic.

He was beginning to see her point.

"Shika?" Fred asked with concern. Shikamaru refocused out of his mental sorting of priorities and saw the twins giving him identical looks of worry.

"If you have too much to deal with, you don't have to help us," George said with a slight guilty wince. "We overheard Harry telling Ron that you've got a lot more on your plate than even someone two years older. What with all that you have going on, we'll be fine if you can't."

That sounded entirely too appealing.

Shikamaru shook his head anyway.

"I'll be fine. Give me a couple of days to scrounge something up," he said. He'd  _ probably  _ have something by then.

He walked away before his common sense (noticeably missing these days) could talk him out of it.

"Think we should have tried harder?" George asked quietly.

"We'll know if he can't handle it," Fred said confidently. "We'll just have to have ears and eyes everywhere to make sure this isn't causing him too much trouble."

Shikamaru sat down at the table with his friends, earning curious looks.

"What did they want?" Ron asked.

"Help with a prank," Shikamaru said vaguely, pulling out a book on partial Transfiguration. Hermione eyed it enviously. Harry took one look at the diagrams and formulas and turned bit pale.

"I don't know how you can understand all of that," he said, looking fascinated in a horrified sort of way. The way someone might have looked at something they found particularly disturbing, but it was just so interesting that they couldn't stop staring at it.

Shikamaru understood his sentiments. He used to look that way when Ino took him shopping with her.

" _ I _ don't know where you got it; that version hasn't been seen in at least a decade. It's very valuable and the Hogwarts library doesn't have it. I checked," Hermione said. Priorities - at least someone had them.

"I found it in a second-hand shop, underneath a bunch of books on animal care,” Shikamaru answered her unasked question. Useless information; the writers had clearly had no idea what they were talking about.

The heavily annotated book was set aside and out came a roll of parchment. He let out a huff of breath, cracked his neck, and began to write. Neat rows of letters and numbers made their way across the paper, with the occasional diagram or arrow to clarify things.

Shikamaru treated it like a mission with a time limit. He wrote it all in an efficient, personal shorthand that took him the least amount of time to glance over. While one of his hands was occupied with writing down the precise instructions on changing the structure of human anatomy with as little pain as possible, the other dug around in his bag for a different book. He pulled it out. This one was on charming inanimate objects.

The thing about being a genius - even a lazy one - was that his brain was always going. Even in his calmest moments - cloud watching - his brain was analyzing something. Calculations ran through his mind twenty-four-seven, determining the physics behind that object's movements or considering how that process worked. His incredible intelligence meant that he could have more than one full train of thought going at one time. He couldn't stop thinking. This had been incredibly useful during the war since it meant that he could think on various levels simultaneously. Even when asleep, his brain was working, and he almost never went into deep periods of sleep. This also meant that when he crashed, he crashed  _ hard _ . And he always knew when the inevitable crash was coming. Shikamaru knew that this was all going to come back and bite him in the ass later, but with the pile of important issues on his mind, he also knew that it was pointless to try and sleep or rest for the next few days. He would burn himself out or he would finish his tasks; one or the other with no other option.

Workaholic indeed.

While thinking about Quirrell, his left hand absently turned the pages of two books and his right hand started writing out ideas in neat bullets and lists. Half-formed thoughts transferred from his brain to the pieces of parchment, automatically categorized by subject and importance. He distantly registered that his friends were staring at him in amazement. Hours flew by - he was lucky it was a weekend - and lunch came. He barely had to presence of mind to tell his friends that he wouldn't be going to any meals before diving back into his research.

(In his other life, his friends wouldn't have taken ‘no’ for an answer, knowing him like they did. Naruto would have dragged him out forcibly, Chouji would have stood by patiently until Shikamaru's own guilt made him give in, Ino would have purposely distracted him with a lengthy one-sided conversation about something or other, Temari-

Well, his newer friends didn't have that experience, and so they didn't try as hard. Much to their later chagrin.)

The trio left, and when they came back sometime later, the table they had been working at was covered in pieces of parchment filled with notes, theories, and plans in various states of dryness.

"Merlin," Ron muttered. Shikamaru didn't acknowledge them.

"Shikamaru?" Hermione asked tentatively. His hand didn't pause, but he glanced up. "Um, have you...er, have you done your homework?" Shikamaru nodded briefly and reached for a small stack of parchment in the corner of his table.

"Here. Essays for Potions, History of Magic, and Charms. Drawing and notes for Herbology, a summary of the chapter for Transfiguration, and observations for Astronomy," he said briskly.

" _ Merlin _ ," Ron said again in amazement. "You did all of this while we were at lunch?"

"No, he can't have. I saw him working on it this morning before breakfast," Hermione reassured him.

"Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else?" Harry asked quietly. The other two nodded after glancing at their friend. The three went away, much to Shikamaru's relief. He was nursing a headache and while they meant well, their talking hadn't made it any better. He didn't notice the hours slipping away, internal clock smothered by the buzzing of his mind, and he refused to acknowledge the ache that was growing in his hands. His eyelids started to droop, but he took an Invigoration Draught that gave him a large boost of energy. It was like a wizard's equivalent of coffee. It was also highly addictive, so he only took the potion when necessary. The day turned to night, and his friends took one look at him and left him, deciding he would go to bed when he was ready. But, well, he never did.

He worked through the night, brushing away his fatigue with practiced ease (because it wasn't too bad yet, and this wouldn't be the first or last all-nighter he would have to pull, he knew), and he continued right on until the next day started. Harry and Ron came down for breakfast, exchanged looks, and went up to him.

"Shikamaru?" Harry asked tentatively. Shikamaru barely glanced at him. "It's time for breakfast.” Harry frowned as he took in his friend’s physical state of disarray.

"I'll be fine," Shikamaru said automatically.

"You need to eat, mate," Ron said with concern.

"I'll be okay," Shikamaru assured him absently. He was almost there with the Partial Transfiguration. "Go on ahead." The two exchanged looks again and went towards the door.

"Don't overwork yourself," Ron said, voice laced with uncertainty. And then the two walked out of the room.

_ Too late. _

His vision tunneled as he refocused on his work.

Work, work, work. Studying, noting, dissecting the theory behind it - trying to improve it, seeing what else it could be applied to. Writing page after page after page of thoughts and half-formed conclusions to look back on later. No time to fully think through the plan, writing it out to come back later, just to get something down. Switching targets. Looking through history; scouring through the book and reading it cover to cover and then again in case something was missed. Write down anything that looked vaguely helpful. Dinner? What was dinner? Sleep? That was okay; he hadn't needed consistent sleep for years now. Ignoring the ache in the back of his mind, ignoring the concerned looks of his friends, politely (or not so politely) brushing off any attempts at conversation.

(No, he really wasn't alright, but his well being wasn't important right now.) Temari was right; he was a workaholic when he got  _ focused _ .

The darkness crowded around his vision, but he didn't want to depend on the potions so he just bore with it and pushed it away. The ache was spreading to behind his eyes - which, consequently, were probably red and bloodshot from staying up for almost three nights straight. Worry for Harry's safety, (but wait, those prank plans needed to be done two hours ago), plans for persuading Snape to listen to them, back to school work (had to prepare for the ‘study’ sessions to give the Slytherins a reason to come); Harry, prank, school, Snape,  _ Harry-prank-school-Snape- _

Shikamaru's head thudded down on his textbook, his hand still in the process of writing something down (he didn't even know what anymore because everything was on autopilot), and he fell into a deep sleep. He didn't move for the next six hours, breathing light and thready, and his temperature high and his face pale and strained.

…

The common room was quiet. It was early morning and a few minutes before breakfast. No one paid attention to the completely still Gryffindor in the corner that had become a constant presence. No knew why, but the room felt too quiet. No one would realize that they had gotten used to the sound of a scratching quill and the wrinkle of paper as pages turned. Hermione came down first, soon followed by Harry and Ron.

They noticed something was off too.

"Something's up," Ron said with a frown. He turned to his friend in the corner. "Hey, Shika-" he stopped and his face paled.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered. "Look at him."

"He looks..." Harry started hesitantly.

"Bloody awful," Ron said flatly. He sighed and shook his head. "I knew we should have told him to take a break."

"He wouldn't listen to us," Hermione said, but she didn't sound convinced of her own words.

"Then we should have forced him," Harry said fiercely. "Clearly he doesn't know his own limits."

"Or he doesn't care," Ron agreed somberly. "I'll be having a word with Fred and George later."

"What about us?" a familiar voice asked. The twins came into the room from their dormitory, fixing their ties.

"Shikamaru," Ron replied. "You asked him for help with your prank, didn't you?"

"So what if we did?" Fred asked. "He said he could manage to help us."

"Shikamaru is an  _ idiot  _ who clearly doesn't know how to limit himself. Look at him," Ron said flatly, jabbing a finger at his friend's still body. Fred and George took a look at Shikamaru and their expressions became sufficiently shocked.

"We asked around; no one's said anything about him being this bad," George said quietly.

"That's because he hasn't left the Gryffindor common room for almost three days," Hermione said tartly. The twins were silent.

…

 

Shikamaru was aroused by the sound of raised voices. His first thought was to tell whoever it was to shut the hell up because  _ he was trying to sleep, damn it _ . His second thought was the realization that he had, in fact, fallen asleep.

That wasn't good.

Shodaime; this was why he needed to invest in an alarm clock or something.

Unfortunately, sudden, loud noises and a high strung ninja did not a good match make.

Shikamaru kicked his abused brain into gear and actually listened to what was being yelled.

"-didn't know! How could we?" the very familiar and irate voice of a certain twin exclaimed.

"I don't know, but Shikamaru has enough to think about without your pranks!" Hermione scolded testily. Shikamaru might have been just a little impressed that she could yell at someone two years her senior like that.

"You two are gits, you know that?" Ron said in disgust. "Asking someone who  _ already  _ has sleeping problems to spend even more time awake to help you with your fun?" Shikamaru's eyes snapped open at this last comment.

He should have said something before it got to this point. This was karma for...something.

"He didn't tell us he had insomnia, or whatever the hell it's called!" George said defensively.

"Damn straight I didn't," Shikamaru butted in, wishing for a glass of water so that he didn't sound so croaky. He lifted his head and stifled a groan as the light caused the muffled ache behind his eyes to return full force. He massaged his temples in hopes of getting it to abate. 

It didn't. He felt like he had the hangover from hell.

"Shikamaru!" Hermione said in surprise.

"It wasn't important enough to advertise," he continued, ignoring her greeting. He ironed his face with his hands. "Anyway, I got the plans done. I just need to work out the kinks and add a few details. It's not a big deal."

Well, there was no need for them to look so incredulous. Contrary to apparent popular belief, he  _ did  _ know his limits. Now, whether they should have been set so high was another story entirely.

"Yes, it  _ is  _ a big deal!" Hermione said shrilly. "You collapsing from exhaustion isn't good at all!"

"Hermione, calm down," Ron said, though he looked plenty incensed. "Yelling at him won't do anything."

"I do this all the time," Shikamaru said in mild exasperation. Their hearts were in the right place. "It's just life sometimes. CEOs do it, scientists do it; there's just too much to do and something has to give."

"But you  _ aren't  _ an adult," Hermione said. "We're eleven years old -  _ you  _ are eleven years old, and genius or not, you need sleep! A-and food!" She was close to tears, worry apparent on her face. Shikamaru felt a tinge of guilt somewhere in the back of his mind, but he was too busy concentrating on not grimacing at his headache to try and assuage her concerns.

"Shikamaru, mate," Ron said quietly, "you don't have to do this all alone. I know we aren't as smart as you or as advanced in anything, really, but let us help.

Shikamaru sighed; that wasn't the message he'd been trying to send. "It isn't like that. I know that you can help, and it's my problem that's keeping you from doing so. I'm not used to having people intelligent enough around to help, I guess.”

Which was mostly true.

"What about the other kids at your orphanage?" Hermione asked. Fred and George exchanged surprised looks.

"You're an orphan?" they asked in shock. Shikamaru tilted his head back so that he was looking at the ceiling. This wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have while functioning with so little sleep. Or, well, he would have liked to avoid it altogether, really.

"Yeah, you didn't know?" Harry asked, from somewhere to Shikamaru's right.

"Troublesome," Shikamaru told the ceiling flatly.

"He never told us," George said in a strange voice. Shikamaru let out a large breath through his nose and then he lowered his head until his eyes locked with Fred's. The Weasley was both surprised and a little...hurt?

Damn. It.

"It wasn't on purpose," Shikamaru said sincerely. "It just never came up." And he didn't much like to talk about it. There wasn't a whole lot to talk about. Nothing good, anyway.

"Right." Fred looked unconvinced.

Well. How did he fix this?

"Do you like it there?" George asked suddenly.

"What?" Shikamaru asked in confusion, his brain struggling to keep up with the conversation. Invigorating Draughts were great temporary measures; the after effects were not so nice.

"Do you like it there?" George repeated. "I just thought that if you didn't like it, then you probably wouldn't have much cause to bring it up."

George was offering him a way out and Shikamaru appreciated it. He was being offered a chance to help explain his lack of explanation. And yet...he was reluctant to impart to his friends what his home situation was really like. Harry had told a bit of his life at the Dursley house (all refused to call it 'home'), and what little was given made the boy's friends swell up in righteous anger. (A cupboard? Seriously? How had nobody noticed that? Then again, no one had noticed Shikamaru's 'room' either...)

But while Harry might have needed the reassurance that nothing was wrong with him just because his relatives were grade-A assholes, Shikamaru was an adult that had no such insecurities. He knew it was on the adults of the orphanage. He didn't want pity or sympathy. (Neither helped anyone during the war, and neither would help now.) So, he resorted to telling half-truths to keep them satisfied, while also ensuring their innocence stuck around for a little longer.

Harry might have known a bit more than the other two, but for all of Hermione's intelligence, she was still quite naïve. Her blatant trust in adults proved that. Ron was sheltered by his family, and the Dursleys (terrible excuses for human beings that they were) didn’t seem to be the type of people to expose Harry to the depravity and evil that the world could provide if only to keep those influences away from their own son. Shikamaru was under no such illusions and had long since resolved to keep his friends on the lighter side of things rather than that large gray area that he now resided in. Still, he had to play the relatively innocent child...

"I don't hate it," he said finally. "It isn't the best, but it's something. Better than the streets, right?" Sometimes he wasn't so sure of that. It was probably best not to tell them that tidbit though.

"That isn't a very high standard," Hermione noted.

"Yeah, well, I don't have high expectations," Shikamaru said. Not of that place, not anymore. There was a bit of an awkward silence, during which Shikamaru struggled to marshal his thoughts into a semi-coherent train.

"Why didn't you tell us you were so busy?" Fred asked finally. "We wouldn't have asked you to help. George and I know you have a lot of stuff going on, but we didn't think it would get so…" He gestured to the chaos that was Shikamaru's work.

Shikamaru debated what to say. His neglect of basic human needs was biting him in the rear right on time. The hunger was making him feel light-headed, his throat was drier than Suna, and his headache was just getting worse every moment. He needed a couple days of sleep, food, water, and a couple of headache pills. Or, assuming wizards had none, some sort of potion. Madam Pomfrey probably had something.

"I thought I could handle it better than I did," he said truthfully. Who knew that planning a prank - even such an elaborate one - could be so much work? He had a whole new respect for Naruto now - and Fred and George. Or was it George and Fred? He had heard something about Gred and Forge too, maybe. (Or he had imagined it in a temporary state of delirium.) Perhaps Forge and Gred?

His hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. And...he was off track. This was what happened when he got no sleep. His mind snagged on random tangents and focused on the most obscure things. It was very irritating.

Irritation: the state of feeling annoyed, impatient, or angry. Angry like an Uchiha. Uchihas...Sasuke had been the literal Last Uchiha for less than a year. Maybe. When had Itachi died? But wait, Sasuke married Sakura and therefore started to rebuild his clan, which was part of his goal...right? Or had that only been killing Itachi? Hmm. He'd have to ask Naruto-

Shikamaru violently wrenched himself from those thoughts, feeling a little sick. He couldn't ask Naruto because he wasn't in the Elemental Nations anymore. No Naruto, or brooding Uchiha, or Ino, or Temari… No Shikadai either. No family. Friends, sure, but he didn't want to replace his old family with a new one; it wouldn't be fair to anyone. Though honestly, the chances of him getting a new family were slim since he lived in an orphanage that disliked and distrusted him - and the feelings were completely mutual. He wondered how they were doing, his family.

Were they looking for him? Or maybe they were frozen in time while he was here. Perhaps his original dimension had restarted without him in it. Team Ten would get someone else...how would that even work? Temari would probably remain single for life, but that wasn't right because she had always wanted a family. He...just wouldn't be a part of it. Neither would Shikadai. Or maybe his parents had a different child that would take his place.

Or maybe he was existing in two places at once. The idea made his headache worse.

That was about when he noticed that his friends were looking at him with even greater concern. ...had he said that out loud?

Well, judging by their half confused expression, at least he’d said it all in Japanese. There was that. Hmm...Japanese…

This was ridiculous. He couldn't focus for two seconds!

"Can we question him later? He looks ready to drop," Harry said hesitantly.

Excellent idea, Harry. Shikamaru was very amenable to the idea of sleeping.

"Nearly three days without sleep would do that," Hermione agreed with a nod.

"I'm right here," Shikamaru muttered. They ignored him like the brats they were. **(3)**

"I think we can cover for him in class," Ron said thoughtfully. "We can take notes for him, and the only people who might make a big deal out of it would be Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Binns doesn't notice much, and I can't see Flitwick being hung up on it."

"Alright," Hermione said briskly. "You-" she pointed a finger at Shikamaru, "go to sleep. And we-" she indicated the trio, "will take notes for you and turn in your homework. But for today only!" she added hastily, raising a finger and waving it. Shikamaru shook his head. Of course. But, a fond look entered his eyes and a faint smile touched his lips.

"Alright, you troublesome girl," he said agreeably. He stood up to go and do exactly what she had told him to - and nearly fell over as a wave of exhaustion swept over him. He stumbled back and probably would have tripped over his chair or something similarly ridiculous, but two pairs of strong arms secured themselves around his shoulders and arms.

That was...mildly embarrassing.

"Oi, can't have you going all princess-y on us," George mocked lightly.

"That's right," Fred agreed. "We can't have you sleeping before you actually get to bed. People would talk. They'd say that you're a lazy lie-about who doesn't put forth nearly enough effort."

Well. They wouldn't be wrong, per say...

"Actually, I'm pretty sure they say that anyway," George said thoughtfully as they guided Shikamaru up the stairs. The other first years followed at a distance, carefully watching their mutual friend.

"Well, then this would reinforce it all. Would hate to prove them right," Fred declared cheerfully.

Shikamaru listened to their light-hearted banter in a sort of haze and felt immeasurable relief when he was placed on his bed. His body relaxed instantly, and he might have made an embarrassing noise of contentment, but he was too out of it to care.

He drifted off to one of the twins chuckling and saying fondly, "Alright, let's leave our little overachiever to his rest." He'd never been happier to fall asleep.

Best of all: he didn't even have any dreams.

 

**Potions:**

**Invigoration Potion: Gives drinker boost of energy.**

**Ninjutsu (Techniques):**

**Kage Bunshin no Jutsu (Shadow Clone technique):** **Creates copies of user, splits chakra in half for each clone, and transmits memories of clone to user after it dispels.  B-rank, hand seals are Clone seal or Tiger seal. (Mentioned).**

 

**(1): Yeah, what Neville’s relatives did to him - pushing him out a window - is seriously messed up. As in, his relatives could get jail time for that if they were muggles.**

**(2): Firstly, I have no idea where this scene came from, to be honest. It was supposed to be light-hearted. Ha. But in all seriousness, I think this was a conversation - or part of one - that Shikamaru needed to have.**

**He was never abused or mistreated in his original life, so chances of him identifying such passive-aggressiveness as abuse were slim, even with his great intellect. The fact is though; he is being neglected almost to the point of them starving him. I think that he needed to get a clue, but that it wouldn't happen by himself - he's only human - and voilà, that's where Lupin came in. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this angsty thing that wrote itself.**

**(3): I always thought Shikamaru's propensity to sound like a crotchety old man was hilarious.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment to tell me how I did!


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